Cotton Belt
by ThisIsReallyHappening
Summary: I won't supposed to fall in love, especially with a boy like him. But when it happened, I took the whole damn town down with me. I soon figured out, falling was the easy part. (ExB, Rated M)
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

****Thanks to my Dream Team: Blueeyedcherry (Beta Connoisseur), Mia Isabella Cullen (Pre-Reading Wizard), beegurl13 (Banner Making Artiste), Cinnynala (Story Consultant), and Kni Nut (Title Making Expert).****

**Mon-Fri Updates. Banner on Profile (thx beegurl13!).**

**Unimaginable, Devotional, String-Tugging, Soul-Crushing, Bittersweet, Teenage Fast-Loving Angst.**

**And as always, cupcakes.**

**Summary: ****I won't supposed to fall in love, especially with a boy like him. But when it happened, I took the whole damn town down with me. I soon figured out, falling was the easy part. (ExB, Rated M)**

* * *

><p><strong>~~~~Cotton Belt~~~<strong>

**Chapter One: Prologue**

I prayed for him.

I remember; it was a few years back when I was just a youngin' and didn't know any better. This was before Alice Jo Summer knocked her teeth out playing rock launcher, and one of 'em ricocheted back and hit her square in her mouth. Or when Jessie realized baby Jesus wasn't an infant anymore and that He actually died, and she started hollering all over church, telling everybody we killed her sweet baby Jesus.

It was still a time when Papa would settle out on the grass and tell us all about how we lived in the center of the Cotton Belt—the deepest part of the South where cotton was the most prevalent crop. I just called Forks County, Mississippi home.

"God gave us a lot of things," he'd tell us. "Like green cypress swamps, sycamore trees, flowing creeks, coon hunting, and lots of cotton."

Even my little sister, Jessica Beth Gracie Swan.

"But no shooting stars."

I reckon that was the heavens' way of telling us we had more than enough.

No, I remember this was way back when Ma used to dance in the kitchen, and she'd drag Papa in there and he'd be all covered in gator blood and stinkin' up our pretty house. They'd dance all over the place—a tap-tap here and a swing-swing there. If it were a special night, Papa would dip Ma real low and swoop in for a kiss. Sure, she'd act all dramatic, pretending she didn't like it and saying they shouldn't be carryin' on in front of us girls, but you could tell that she loved that man.

So yeah, I prayed for him. I didn't know it was him I was praying for exactly, 'cause at that time I was more concerned about getting some new boots, but now I know.

I was 15, AJ was 13, and Jessie was seven. We went upstairs like we always did to get ready for bed. Our house was huge, an old plantation Pa purchased after he struck it rich with his gator hunting business. But for some reason, AJ, Jessie, and I couldn't ever be apart. So, we shared a room and crammed all our clothes and toys in the others.

It was my night to pray. We always took turns, and not to brag or anything but I was the best prayer. I think God waited every night just to hear me call out to him. So the three of us got down on our knees while I told the heavens everything that was on my mind.

.

.

.

"…Thank you, Lord, for a supper of delicious stew, and for Ma not putting too many carrots in it. You know how much I hate carrots. And thank you for th-"

"Make sure you pray for our family," Alice Jo says, interrupting me. She's bossy, like she always is. She's too snarky for being so short. I peek open one eye and glare. "I _know_, AJ."

"Watch out for our kinfolk," I add. "And I pray that Ma gets me that new pair of boots I want. You know, the yellow ones with the white polka dots and the bow at the top? I want those, but I'll take the green ones, Jesus, if that's all you want me to have."

Jessie taps me on the shoulder with her chubby finger. "Pray for the worms, too. I stepped on a worm today and I'm real sorry. Tell baby Jesus I ain't mean nothing by it."

I sigh at my youngest sister, who doesn't have a clue how life cycles work. "Fine."

"…And please, God, don't be mad at Jessie. She killed one of your beloved creatures. She said to tell you she's sorry, but I figure her sin ought to cost her a week's allowance."

Jessie nudges me hard with her elbow, but I keep praying. "And please allow us to have a good summer. I don't want to run into Miss Kate and have her and Ma chattin' about how I failed English 'cause I don't know the difference between an adjective and an adverb."

AJ clears her throat real loudly, like I'm forgetting something.

"What now?" I ask, keeping my head bowed.

"Thank God for the dirt, too, Cotton."

This time I open both eyes real wide. "What? AJ, I ain't praying for no dirt. What sense does that make? It's bad enough Jessie has me praying for worms. But I ain't telling nobody nothing about dirt."

"You has to," she argues. "You has to pray for whatever Jesus lays on my heart. And He said to tell you to thank God for the dirt. So do it."

"Yeah," Jessie cuts in. "Pray to baby Jesus before He starts crying."

I groan loudly and close my eyes again. "I don't know why I'm thanking you for this, but since you already know my sisters are out of their minds, I'm sure you'll take this with a grain of salt. So, I pray for their healing … and thank you for dirt."

"For dirt," my sisters say at the same time.

"Amen."

.

.

.

Somebody upstairs was listening, 'cause the next day dirt came tumbling into my life with a smart mouth and moss colored eyes.

He said his name was Rowdy.

That's fittin', I suppose.

Once the wild ones take your heart, they never intend on giving it back.


	2. Chapter 2: Mountains & Masens

**Chapter Two: Mountains & Masens**

Papa always said he would swat our bottoms ten minutes past Sunday.

Well, it's Saturday night, and by the sound of his voice one of us is going to be skipping a day.

Papa made sure he wasn't sinning on God's day any more than he had to the rest of the week.

AJ steps on my yellow rubber boots, the kind I wear even when it isn't raining, and scrambles past me to get outside first.

She reckons if she's at the scene of the crime before me and Jessie, she's innocent.

She probably did it, whatever "it" is. She's already tore up half of the house with her antics. Throwing balls through windows, crushing Ma's good vases, overflowing the washer trying to make an indoor swimming pool — AJ is a magnet for trouble. _Tomboy_, she calls herself. But she knows better than to let Papa hear her say that.

"Move it, Bella Rain!"

I scoff. She knows I despise that name. Ma said all babies are pretty when they come out; that God sent 'em floating down from Heaven just to give adults something to smile about. She told me that I was so beautiful, all the cotton just a' bloomed when I was born.

I believe her, too. That's why she and Papa named me that. AnnaBella Rain Cotton Swan.

But everybody in Forks County just calls me Cotton.

"Girls!" Papa yells out again, but Ma screams back at him.

"Just yank it out, Charlie!"

"Dammit, Renee, I'm trying!"

I grab Jessie's hand to see what the commotion is all about. My youngest sister thinks she's a baby, but she's just snot-nosed and chubby. We all look alike—Jessie Beth, Alice Jo, and I—all with dark hair and big brown eyes. Except AJ has a mole on her upper lip. I think Ma drew it on there when AJ was born and now it just won't come off.

The front screen door slams behind me and Jessie, bouncing back three times before closing.

Ma and Papa are trying to pull on something from the shrub just below the front porch, but it's not budging.

"What's going on?" I ask.

AJ points, watching our parents tug as sweat drips from Papa's brow. "Papa's rifle is stuck in the bush."

"How'd it get there?"

Papa quits jerking on the handle of the rifle and wipes his forehead with his flannel sleeve. "I'll tell you how it got here, Cotton. Those Masens from up the road done been over here again. I found my overalls in the shed hanging from a rope, a gallon of my honey knocked over, and somebody just returned my gator boat this morning. Now this. I'm sick of their shit, Ree. I'm going over there first thing in the morning."

Ma swats Papa on his chest. "You hush, Charlie. You can't blame them boys for everything. They're good folks. 'Sides, we got church in the morning."

I frown, trying to figure out who they're talking about. "The Masens?"

"The Masens?" Jessie mocks everything I say, no matter what it is. You'd think the flat lands were large enough to echo my voice to a mountain and back, but no, Ma and Papa had to go and have Jessie just so I could hear myself twice.

"Bunch of roughnecks that moved from across the state," Papa answers, pointing yonder and to nowhere in particular. "They bought that patch of land up the road. Carlisle, I gave him a job on the boat with Billy and Jacob to help out. That wife of his, Esme, is all right I reckon, but his three boys ain't nothing but trouble. Billy done already told me he saw them lurking up past the bridge on Woodberry last week."

"They're about your ages, girls. One's 16," Ma adds, directing it towards me like I care. I don't, but I listen anyways. "The middle one's about 14, and then they have a youngin' a few years above Jessie and one on the way. Don't listen to your father. They're good folks. I'll introduce y'all before service."

"That's if they go, damn hooligans." Papa kicks the bush one last time, nearly knocking a lantern off the porch.

AJ giggles at Papa's cursing and Ma shoots her a dirty look. "You stop that right now, Alice Jo Summer. You know your papa loves that gun."

AJ straightens up immediately and wipes the grin from her face. Anytime Ma calls you by your full name, she means business. She swats a mosquito that sucks the blood from her bare arms and apologizes. "Sorry, Ma."

"You girls go get ready for bed. I don't want none of y'all falling asleep like you did last Sunday. Reverend Weber almost gave you a lashing right on the pew."

We nod and scamper back into the house.

I'm glad Papa didn't swat our bottoms, but I wonder if he'll do it to those boys tomorrow.

I reckon the good Lord will forgive him, even on a Sunday.

.

.

.

Papa was right.

The Masens are a bunch of hooligans. They arrive thirty minutes late, right when Rose Charlotte is belting out "At the Cross." She's singing it too, her blonde hair swaying back and forth as we clap along in unison. Ma carries on, shouting and lifting her hands up high.

Jessie stands on the pew, praising baby Jesus with her storybook Bible in one hand and a naked Barbie doll in the other.

I feel an arm push against me with no "excuse me" or "pardon me" or anything. Just a whispered, "scoot over," and the next thing I know, all of my family is shuffling down. Ma points and smiles, mouthing, "That's them. The Masens."

I roll my eyes at her gesture. I figured that since we know everybody else.

She gives a small wave to the lady with a swollen belly, but I'm too busy deciding if I should hit the boy who's being rude to me.

It ain't right to strike someone, especially in God's house. We Baptists have a thing about following the Lord, but maybe He'll forgive me quicker if I ask beforehand.

The Masen family stands there, not singing or anything, and they look as awkward as I feel. They are filthy, like they ain't have the decency to clean up before church. Every one of 'em has the same green eyes, but it's the one closest to me I can't stop staring at.

His tan shirt is unbuttoned, his hair's all over the place and his trousers have dirt caked all over them. He smells awfully ripe, like he's allergic to water. He's the tallest and Ma said the oldest was 16, but he's got fuzz all over his jaw like a grown man. And his nose is a little crooked. I bet the doctor yanked him out of his Ma too hard.

I don't get to say anything about him squishing me 'cause Rose Charlotte finishes singing with the choir and Reverend Weber takes the pulpit. He condemns liars, thieves, whores, adulterers, and people who drive too slow before he even opens his Bible. I stole a slice of pie last night, so I ask for forgiveness. The rest of the sermon ain't for me so this is my cue to fall asleep. Snuggling in my seat, I close my eyes hoping the Reverend doesn't preach too long today.

I'm not even dreaming yet when a calloused finger digs into my hip.

"Wake up," the voice hisses.

I glance over and I can see the one next to me a little clearer now that we're at the same height.

"Shh," I whisper back. "Don't tell me what to do."

Beneath all the grime, he smirks. "I can and I will. Now wake up before your mama sees you."

"She don't care," I fib, sitting up straighter and pulling down the hem of my lace dress. He stares a little too long at the bare skin above my knees and his eyes travel in places no boys should be looking.

The Masen boy licks his lips and I wonder if i should make a fuss and tell Ma.

I better not. I don't want her thinking I'm acting fast.

He chuckles just as Reverend Weber heads our way, preaching up a storm down the aisle.

"Liar," he breathes, blowing hot air into my ear. "You're so full of shit your eyes are brown."


	3. Chapter 3: Sins & Softness

_Y'all quit being so darn sweet. I can't handle it! TY! :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Sins &amp; Softness<strong>

After service, we always go home and cook a big meal. It's tradition. Ma and Papa probably did that before we were even born. She cooks greasy collard greens and fried chicken and crawfish and peach cobbler. And we eat gator too, 'cause Papa said ain't no point in wasting meat he done caught.

I'm starving and ready to go, but Ma feels it's her duty to introduce us to the dirty folks with the cursing son.

"Esme! Oh my!" Ma pats her belly even though the woman didn't ask her to. "You look even bigger than you did last week."

Esme smiles and rubs her stomach. "One month to go. I sure hope it's a girl."

"I bet it is," Ma says. "Your feet and cheeks are swollen. I would know."

Ma is so embarrassing. I can't believe she just called that woman fat. In church. On a Sunday.

_I guess we're just sinning left and right now._

"Oh! Lemme introduce you to my babies." Ma pushes us girls forward. "This is Cotton, AJ, and Jessie."

We smile real sweetly, taking turns shaking Mrs. Masen's hand.

"You're all beautiful girls. This is my husband Carlisle. You didn't get to meet him last week when your folks came by." Esme tugs his arm forward and he grins politely, but doesn't say nothing. He's missing a few teeth too.

"And these are my boys. Introduce yourself, sons."

"I'm Rowdy." He says it with a wink towards me and I turn my head at his sly grin.

His southern drawl is sweet and slow, like maple syrup.

"Manners, Edward," Esme corrects. "His name is Edward Rowdy."

_I think I'll just call him Church Curser. _

"And I'm Jasper."

_Skinny like a stick._

"I'm Emmett Masen and I'm 11 and I like bacon."

_I bet you do._

They are just a filthy looking bunch. The first one looks just like his name—loud and obnoxious. The second one has so many teeth pushing over his gums that he needs to share with his papa, and the third is all fat and rolls.

Like a hog. He's a hog impersonating a human.

Papa is nice to Carlisle—who still isn't speaking—but he's staring down the three boys. Ma nudges him.

"Say, we're having a big meal. Why don't y'all come by? I could use a little help in the kitchen."

"You don't have-" Esme tries to explain.

"I insist," Ma says, wrapping her arm around her. "Lemme go tell the Reverend what a good word he preached this morning. I'll be right back."

What the Masens don't know is that she's going to be awhile.

.

.

.

We arrive at our house and the Masens all look around in awe. The first sound Carlisle finally makes is a long-winded whistle.

"This here yours?" He walks around, admiring the long columns that stand tall on the three levels. Our porch stretches all the way around the house, but my favorite spot is the sycamore tree in the back that I hide under just to get away.

"Yessiree," Papa says, grinning all proudly. "Gator season hit real good a few years back. Started my own business catching and selling, and here we are."

GatorSkins, owned and operated by Charlie Swan.

He'd tell anybody that ever listened.

I'm not one of them.

Ma scoops up Jessie before she can scuttle away as Papa opens the door. We don't lock doors around these parts, but I think he might after all his stuff keeps getting messed with.

"Cotton? AJ? Go show the boys around. Little Jessie and Esme and me are going to start supper."

"Right this way, Carlisle," Papa says, but turns to me and whispers in my ear, "You keep an eye on them, Cotton. I don't trust 'em for nothing."

I nod as Papa leads Carlisle down the east wing of the manor. "You ever had a Denmark cigar?"

No one tells Emmett where to go, but he follows the women into the kitchen.

_Fatty._

Alice Jo points here and there, rambling about every room in the house. She describes everything—the library, the loft, the music room, the seven bedrooms, and the parlor. Rowdy and JR soak it all in, like they haven't ever seen anything like it.

When we finally reach our bedroom with three beds, Rowdy glances around. "Why y'all all share a room if you have all this space?"

I shrug, not fully understanding his question. "'Cause we're sisters, that's why."

"Not me," Jasper boasts. "If I lived in a mansion like this, I'd have three rooms all to myself."

"Shut up, Jasper. You'd have whatever room I'd tell you," Rowdy answers.

AJ and I glance at each other, wondering if they always bicker like this.

"Wanna go see the sunroom?" I ask, trying to keep the peace. "Ma always keeps snacks in there."

"Do y'all have an attic?" Jasper asks, not even listening to me.

"Yep, it's scary though," Alice Jo warns. He doesn't care and follows her up to the third floor.

"Which bed is yours?" Rowdy runs his finger over the fabric of my comforter. My bed is closest to the window, which I like so I can sleep through all of AJ's snoring.

"That one," I say, nodding towards it. "Why?"

"No reason. It's just that when I imagine you, I want to have somewhere specific in mind."

"Specific for what?" _And why would he want to imagine me doing anything?_ I don't know what he's talking about and it's driving me up the wall.

He walks past me and I swear his dirty finger brushes along my back. "Nothing. Are you gonna show me the sunroom or what?"

He's a bossy one, that Rowdy. Way bossier than AJ. I don't know if I should listen to him or not. He's only a year older, but that don't mean anything.

I sigh as my rain boots make flopping noises on the hardwood floor, heading back downstairs to the first level. We make a left at the bottom of the stairs and go down the hall. The sunroom is my favorite room in the house. It's decorated in pretty flowers, with soft furniture and a dining cupboard with crystal dishes. Ma said it's the room closest to where the sun beams in, and that's how we know God is shining down on us.

I just think it's 'cause of all the windows.

Rowdy plops down in a white wicker chair, rocking back and forth and taking a raspberry biscuit from the table.

He's already staining the chair with his grime.

I sit on the other side and reach for a cracker.

"Why are you wearing rain boots?" he questions. "It ain't even pouring outside."

"They're my favorite. I have all kinds of boots—jellies and wellies and rubber ones. I just like 'em."

He frowns, like he doesn't understand why I've got more than one of anything. "What's your real name?"

"What?" I'm so busy focusing on his grubby fingernails that I don't hear him.

"Your name," he repeats, stuffing his mouth full. "What is it, really?"

_He sure is a nosy fella._

"It can't be Cotton," he explains. "Girls don't have names like Cotton."

"They do so!" I argue, folding my arms. "That _is_ my name. AnnaBella Rain Cotton Swan. Ma said the cottons bloomed after I was born. My Ma ain't a liar!"

His dirty hands fold over his dirty stomach as he laughs. "It-It's such a dumb name!"

"I suppose Rowdy is all peaches and cream?"

"Rowdy is my Gramps' name," he explains, his chuckles quieting down. "He died in the war, so if you want to make fun of a Vet, then you go right ahead."

"Oh."

We sit in silence for a few seconds, rocking in our own thoughts as we chew.

I feel him staring, but when I peek, he's gazing out of a window.

Without warning, Rowdy leans over, running a finger over the invisible hairs on my bare arm.

I shiver and glance up at him with wide eyes, wondering why he would do such a thing.

"Cotton?"

"Hmm?"

"I get it now, why that's your name."

I blush and turn away.

He's all words and gazes. Smooth talking and hushed tones.

I don't want to hear it.

_I can't get enough._

Rowdy pulls my chin towards him, and I feel like he's looking somewhere deeper than my eyes.

"Don't be ashamed. You can be soft on the outside, but it don't mean you're soft on the inside. You're a tough one, I can tell."

I peer at him in confusion, 'cause I don't think of myself in the same way. "How's that? You don't even know me."

"All cotton seeds start off small and hard," he explains. "And when they finally start growing, they're almost impossible to pull apart."

Rowdy's wrong.

When his hand is touching my skin like this, I can already feel myself unraveling.


	4. Chapter 4: Darkness & Dreams

**Chapter Four: Darkness & Dreams**

Papa used to tell us that when we couldn't sleep, it was 'cause our eyes were open in someone else's dreams.

It was an old folk's tale Papa would say just to get us to bed, but as I get older, I'm starting to see the truth in it. That's what I'm thinking as I toss and turn in the middle of the night. I flip my pillow over twice, wishing the cool air from the vents would beat the Mississippi heat. Jessie and AJ are fast asleep when I hear a _ping _hitting against my window. I wait a few seconds and it happens again, only louder. Sliding out of bed, I walk towards the window and look below. It's too dark to see anything, but something else is thrown that makes me jump backwards.

"_Cotton!"_

It's the loudest whisper I've ever heard through glass, so I slide the windowpane up.

"_Cotton!"_

A dark figure waves its arms back and forth, and though I can't see clearly, I'd recognize that drawl from anywhere.

"Rowdy?"

"Come down!"

"What?" I hiss loudly. "No! Go home Rowdy!"

"Come down!" he repeats it, like he doesn't hear me refusing. Sighing, I close the window softly, hoping I don't wake my sisters up. In my bare feet, I tiptoe out of my room, down the dark stairs, and through the hallway. I quietly open the front door, praying I don't get a splinter from the wood. When I reach the side of the house, Rowdy is still there waving his arms.

"It's three in the mornin'! Are you crazy?"

He's still dressed in the clothes he had on earlier, but his eyes shine underneath the moonlight sky. He shrugs in the warm, still night.

"I couldn't sleep."

Groaning, I cross my arms. "And waking me up is going to help that?"

He chuckles. "Naw. But I could use the company."

"Go _home_."

"C'mon, Cotton," he pleads. "Just sit with me for a few minutes. I'll leave afterwards, I swear."

Rowdy is a convincing one and I'm not the type to turn down a beggar.

"Fine." I lead him towards the sycamore tree a few feet away. I don't want to go on the front porch, just in case Papa wakes up.

I start to sit on the grass but Rowdy yanks off his plaid shirt, laying it on the ground for me and then taking a seat beside it. I look at him in awe until he pats the spot. "Sit."

Cautiously, I position myself on his shirt as he grabs a weed and puts it in between his lips.

"Why'd you come here for?" I ask.

"Don't know. I just did."

He's quieter in the nighttime. Not his boisterous self from earlier and it takes me moments to wrap my head around it. I wonder if he just acts like that around other people or just me.

Rowdy's not really giving me an answer and he doesn't look like he's going to explain either. I stretch out my legs, leaning against the bark of the tree, admiring the night sky. There are stars—plenty of 'em—shining in patterns I'd never know the name of.

We sit in silence until Rowdy moans as he adjusts his sitting position.

"What's wrong?" Not that I'm concerned about his well-being, but it doesn't seem right not to at least show some manners.

"My back," he says simply. "It's why I couldn't sleep. Keeps me up sometimes."

"You been to a doctor?" I question. That's where I went the time I broke my wrist on the trampoline with Jessie.

He looks at me like I've lost my mind. "We can't afford no doctor, Cotton. We only moved from Rosedale 'cause Pop lost his job and it won't nothin' else there. Why do you think Mama doesn't know what she's having yet? That there is for rich folks. 'Sides, it's not a big deal. I was moving furniture earlier and Pop was busy outside, so I did it by myself. Should have waited for him, that's all."

"Okay." He winces again, and even though he was a nuisance to me earlier, I can't be one back. It ain't in my nature to just ignore his suffering. "Turn around."

"What?" Rowdy fixes his surprised gaze on me and I crack my knuckles in response.

"Turn around," I repeat. He looks wearily at me before slowly turning his broad back to me. His white shirt is covered in dirt and has holes here and there. Papa would wear his back out like this sometimes after a long day and us girls would take turns karate chopping his back.

Until the time AJ went all black belt and Papa pulled a muscle.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I start at the top, rubbing my thumbs deeply into his shoulders blades.

"Oh God," he moans. I can't focus on his blasphemy; I just knead the parts where the muscles are pulled too tightly. He leans his head forward, giving me access to his neck. I ache to touch his hair, but I steer clear and remind myself I'm only doing this to help him.

It doesn't help that the sounds coming out of his mouth are making me tingle.

"Breathe," I say. "Don't tense up."

I rub soothing circles up and down his back, making sure I don't miss any spots. I feel him relaxing beneath my touch and breathing deeply when I hit the middle of his lower spine. I've never given a massage like this before, but it doesn't seem to faze him. His painful gasps turn into soft sighs as I figure ten minutes is enough.

"Thank you," he says gratefully when I drop my hands. He spins back around, facing me. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

Somehow, when his green eyes gaze at me, they're a brighter green this time. It's as if the moonlight has illuminated his pupils, catching bits of light that weren't there before.

"Sorry I made fun of you before supper. It won't right. Sometimes I forget how it is to be around folks."

I raise my eyebrows, not understanding what he means. "Didn't you go to school?"

"Sometimes. Pop needed help on the farm, so I was home more than anything. They just kept passin' me along. That's why I'm not too good with the reading and the numbers and such."

I open my mouth without meaning to. "Y-you can't read?"

Rowdy looks away, embarrassed. "A few words. They just get mixed up, you know? Ain't nobody took their time to help me, and my folks never did graduate, so…"

He trails off and I feel a world of pity for him. How could he go through life not being able to read?

"I can help you," I offer before I can stop myself. "We've got tons of books in the library."

"You ain't gotta fret o'er me."

"No, I can do it. Won't be a bother. I like reading."

"You mean it?"

_I do but I don't know why._

I nod. "But you gotta promise me you'll show up when you say you will. I've got a lot of baton practicing this summer for the pageants and I've got to keep my schedule."

"Pageants?"

"They're like beauty and talent contests. Been doing 'em since before I could walk."

"Oh." He doesn't seem too interested so he just nods. "All right, I promise."

A light suddenly shines on from the window, breaking up our conversation.

"That must be Jessie. She's too scared to walk in the dark to go to the bathroom. I best get going."

I stand up and Rowdy does too, dusting off his pants. We both lean down to pick up his shirt and his fingers brush against mine. It ain't like earlier in my bedroom or when we were sitting in the sunroom. This time, his touch has a more gentle feeling about it. I quickly let go of his shirt and he begins walking back in the direction of his house.

"Cotton?" Rowdy turns around to look at me.

"Yeah?"

"I lied," he admits, shuffling his feet. "I was sleeping just fine, but I had to wake myself up out of my dream. Was too good to be true, I reckon."

"Why's that?" I ask softly.

"'Cause," he answers. Rowdy stuffs his hands in his pockets and I have to strain to hear his whispered words.

"It was about you."


	5. Chapter 5: Blackberries & Blooms

**Chapter Five: Blackberries & Blooms**

Rose Charlotte has no boundaries.

She's been like that since the first grade, when she ordered me to be her best friend. I thought I should've had a choice in the matter, but when she said, "best friends forever," I reckon I was a lifer. We even took a blood oath once, smearing the blood on our two fingers together and locking them in a pact. That was her idea, not mine. Just like the time we went skinny dipping in the swamp and I got bit by a snake. One of these days, I'm going to tell her "no".

So, it's no surprise when she jumps on my bed Monday morning, waking me up from my blissful sleep. "C'mon, Cotton! Wake up!"

I groan and try to turn over, but it only causes her to pull back my soft blankets.

"I'm up, Rose. Cut it out!"

She squeals in glee and pulls me to my feet. "First day of summer break, can you believe it? What should we do? Go to the river? Visit the graveyard? Go throw eggs at the Smith's house again?"

Rose Charlotte also talks a lot. She rambles on and on, and it don't matter if I respond or not—she'll just keep talking until she runs out of breath.

Which is never.

"I don't know," I answer, yawning. "Let me get dressed first."

She follows me as I shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed. She helps me pick out a red, ruffled dress, long gray socks, and red rain boots. By the time I'm finished, my sisters are already downstairs eating breakfast.

"Mornin', Cotton." Ma kisses me on my forehead and slides me a plate of warm blueberry pancakes. Rose takes some too, drowning hers in butter and syrup until the blueberries disappear.

"Is Papa gone already?" I ask, chewing with my mouth open.

Ma nods, sipping on a cup of Joe as she leans against the counter. "You know your father. Leaves early and comes home late. Said he was tracking a big one today and wanted to check his traps."

Papa's been tracking the big one since I was born. He ain't never gonna catch the mysterious gator, but he sure doesn't give up trying. Personally, I don't think it even exists.

Ma glances at the clock on the wall that ticks too loudly for my liking, and almost spills her drink from setting it down too quickly. "Oh! I'm going to be late. I've got to run to Mary's house to help bake for the cake walk this weekend. I declare, seems like we just had one. Y'all behave while I'm gone. No playing inside the house, understand?"

She directs that last part to AJ and Jessie, who smile innocently. "Yes, Ma."

They'll be knocking out windows before she even steps out the door.

"I love you girls." Ma kisses each of us on the cheek, even Rose Charlotte. After she leaves, my sisters are just as anxious to cause mayhem as Rose is.

"Can we go fishin'?" AJ asks, putting her plate in the sink.

"I don't know," I murmur.

"I don't know," Jessie repeats.

I shoot her a glare and toss my napkin on the table. "I've got to practice my baton today."

Rose Charlotte pouts her bottom lip. "Shucks, Cotton. You're always practicing. The pageant ain't for another month. Let's have fun today."

She doesn't understand how I can't just wing it. I won Miss Forks County last year, but I want the state title. Ma's the one that got me started when I was two, and I've been competing ever since. Rose is so pretty she could enter the pageant with me, but she says she wants to be a gospel singer.

Three sets of pitiful eyes look at me until I give in. "Fine. But I ain't going fishin'. These are my good boots, and the last time we went we all fell in after Jessie tipped over the canoe."

AJ gives Rose Charlotte a high five in victory. "Oooh, I know. Maybe we should go visit the Masens."

After last night with Rowdy, I'm feeling shy. Maybe I hadn't heard him correctly. I stand up and clear the table, making sure it's clean before Ma comes home. "Now why would we do a thing like that?"

"'Cause we're bored. And I wanna see that Jasper fella. He called me darlin'." AJ flutters her eyelashes all dreamy-like and I hope she ain't catching feelings. She's too young to be liking boys, and especially ones that smell.

Rose Charlotte scrunches her nose and frowns. "The Masens? Aren't those the ones that walked right in during the middle of my song?"

I nod. "Yep, and they're a bunch of thieves too. Papa said they've been messing and stealing his stuff."

Maybe not Rowdy, but I wouldn't put it past the other two. I can't prove his innocence, but I just don't see him as the type. Not anymore.

"That's a lie!" AJ cuts in. "I asked Jasper and he said he didn't even know what I was talking about."

_Of course he didn't._

I sigh, not even bothering to get into a debate with her. "Fine. We'll go visit, but I'm not staying for long. I bet they're not even home."

.

.

.

The walk to the Masen's house isn't a long one, but it's narrow and twisted. Jessie picks blackberries from the bushes the entire way, and by the time we arrive her mouth is shades of purple and blue. Their farmhouse sits back a ways from the road and we have to travel down an unpaved driveway that's covered with weeds. It's two stories high, but all the paint has peeled off and the roof is missing shingles here and there. Seems like they neglect their house just as much as they neglect themselves.

AJ knocks on the door first and keeps on knocking until Rowdy answers with a smirk on his face "Mornin' ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where's your brothers? AJ and Jessie want to play."

"They're doing their chores," he answers, leaning one arm against the cracked doorway. "I suppose you want to play too?"

I don't know what he means by that so I just say, "Go get 'em."

He laughs and I know his sweetness from the previous night is long gone. He's back to being a smart aleck and saying things I don't understand.

I can hear him telling Esme they're all leaving. She practically shoos them away, saying she needs to rest. Jasper and Emmett walk out first, but it takes about two minutes before Rowdy comes back. When he does, his hair has something in it and his face looks … different.

Cleaner, almost.

"What are we doing?" Jasper asks, standing a little too close to AJ.

"Going to the river," Jessie answers. "But we ain't going canoeing or swimming 'cause Cotton don't want to."

_Mind your business, little girl._

"You don't like takin' a dip in the river?" Rowdy leans over and puts a grass stalk in his mouth. "I reckon a girl like you would."

"A girl like me?" I frown and cross my arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He chuckles. "Nothin'. You're just a cottonseed still."

I ignore his nonsense and AJ starts walking behind their house and through the field to get to the river. Rowdy lags behind, not even bothering to catch up. AJ and Jasper are having their own conversation. Rose Charlotte and Jessie keep trying to guess foods that Emmett doesn't eat.

"Keep up," I tell Rowdy, slowing my pace to walk beside him.

"I _am_," he bites back, shoving me to the side. When he does, I stumble and the hem of my dress gets caught between two sticks in the high grass.

I tug, but it doesn't come undone.

Rowdy stops walking and reaches down with a groan. "Here, let me help."

"I've got it," I say, but I don't really. He watches me struggle for a few seconds then leans over again, breaking the sticks and unsnarling a loose thread.

"See? If I wouldn't have been here, you would've been standing out here for days." I feel his fingers lingering near my thigh, even though I'm free.

"I would've survived," I argue bitterly. Rowdy helps me stand steadily on two feet, but doesn't let me storm away.

"I suppose you would've. Cotton don't need much water to live."

"Har, har," I reply. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

Rowdy shakes his head. "Naw. It's true. It can survive for long periods of time in the dry heat, that's why it's grown in the South."

"So?"

Rowdy throws his arm around me and locks one of my curls around his finger. I mind it and I don't. He grins down at me as we follow behind the others.

"But once in a while, in order for it to bloom, it needs to get a little wet."


	6. Chapter 6: Currents & Crushes

_Hope everyone had a great weekend! Missed you guys! __This story is set in present time. But the Deep South seems like another era, doesn't it?_

_Love your thoughts and thanks for reading! :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Currents &amp; Crushes<strong>

My sisters never listen. They lost their ability to hear when they reached about two, and they've been ignoring me ever since.

"Get out of the water!" I scream at Jessie. She dips her foot in, teasing Emmett about who can put their foot in the deepest without flowing away with the current. He bets her two lollipops he can dip his faster, but I'm guessing all of his fat will just carry him away like a blowfish.

"I'm watching them," Rose Charlotte says, twirling around in circles and not paying a bit of attention.

"Calm down! We're just having fun!" Jessie turns back around and tests the water again, completely disregarding me. She knows what Ma says about playing in the water, so when she falls in, I'll be the first one to say I told her so.

"Lighten up, Cotton." Rowdy covers his mouth, and at first I'm confused on what he's doing—until I see the cigarette. He coughs twice and sticks a set of matches in the pocket of his brown trousers.

"You not supposed to smoke, you know that? Ma says when you smoke you're just asking the Devil for trouble. He'll come through your mouth, then into your lungs, and right into your heart."

Papa smokes cigars but that's different. They're imported and he only smokes them once in a while. _Not like cancer sticks_, he told us once. _Those will kill you_.

Rowdy cocks an eyebrow at me and smirks as he blows a cloud of smoke into the air. "You don't believe that."

"I do too," I say, waving the smoke out of my face. "Ma says-"

"Your ma don't know everything," he replies, sitting down on the nearest log. I cross my arms defensively. "What do _you _say, Cotton?"

Rowdy makes me question everything Ma ever told me.

He makes me question myself.

"I say the good Lord is gonna get you if you keep smoking." I try to remember scriptures I learned in Sunday school, but nothing comes to mind when I peer into Rowdy's green eyes.

"I reckon I'll be all right. You wanna try one?" He holds out his cigarette and I'm curious to put my lips on something he has.

"_This world will tempt you, Cotton," _Ma used to tell me_. "It'll pull you so far down, you won't find your way out. You can't see the light if you living in the darkness."_

Rowdy doesn't look a thing like what Ma was talking about. He _is _light, bursts of colors and brightness I want to touch.

I'm ashamed, because instead of saying 'no' the first thing I do is look around to see if anybody's paying attention. Everyone else has abandoned us, walking upstream where a wooden bridge crosses right after the mud hole on the east side.

"I shouldn't." All I can think about is Jessie catching me sinning. Then she'll have to pray to baby Jesus and all hell will break loose. 'Sides, if Ma smells smoke on me, I'm a goner.

Rowdy shrugs and pulls out a flask that's scratched all along its silver sides.

"You drink too?" I've never met anyone my age that does everything Rowdy does. Maybe Jake, but I think he's a habitual liar. I bet he fibbed left and right when he said his old man Billy gave him an entire bottle of whiskey.

Rowdy unscrews the top and takes a sip, licking his lips and savoring the aftertaste. His bottom lip glistens in the sun and I wonder why I never noticed his full pout before now.

"Pop sells burlap bags of birdseed and bootleg whiskey. That's how we make a little money on the side. It ain't much, but it puts food on the table. So I drink some once in a while, but it's strong. It'll put hair on your chin, that's for sure!" Rowdy laughs and it's everything I want my life to be —carefree and happy.

"Ain't you scared you'll get caught?" I finally take the empty spot next to him, making sure I leave a few inches of space between us. Because of the smoke, I think.

"Get caught by who?"

"Carlisle and Esme." _Obviously._

"They don't care." He looks at me as if I'm not making any sense. "Hell, you should've seen Mama knock back a bottle of rum before she got knocked up. She'll bring a grown man to his knees!"

_A woman who drinks?_ I don't understand. I don't get how a mother and father allow their teenage son to drink. Or why they show up to church 30 minutes late. Or why they aren't like my family.

Rowdy notices my confusion. "Cotton, ere'body ain't like you. We ain't all Baptists that live in a nice house and eat Sunday supper around a pretty table. There's an entire world outside of Forks County."

"I _know _that_._" But I don't think I do. If there are more Rowdys out there, I sure am missing a lot.

I snatch the cigarette out of his hand. "How do I do this?"

I want to show him I'm not too young and that I can be grown up just like him; and that I'm not a prissy Baptist who goes around waving my Bible condemning everybody for sinning.

Rowdy chuckles. "Look at my little Cottonseed blooming."

My cheeks turn a rosy color. I like that he said _my. _It makes my skin tingle and chills run up and down my spine.

"Just put it between your lips, like this." He puts his hand over mine and it's warm, like the sun that shines down on us between the trees. "Pull on the filter, but don't suck it down. You gotta breathe it out slowly."

I do as he says, and as soon as I inhale I start choking. Rowdy laughs and pats my back. Puffs of smoke come out of my mouth unevenly. That's not how Rowdy looked when he smoked, and I feel like a child.

"Try again. You gotta hold it between two fingers, not with your whole hand. It's not a joint." I don't know what that is, but I let the cigarette dangle like he shows me. I put it between my lips and breathe in gradually, not as much this time, and exhale out. It's much smoother and not as harsh.

I don't even choke.

"See? How's that?" My head feels a little dizzy, but I don't know if it's from the tobacco.

"Feels weird."

"That means you're doing it right."

I try to hand back the cigarette, but he lets me keep it as he pulls out another one. We sit in comfortable silence, smoking and watching the current flow through the river. Rowdy leans his head back, gazing at the billowing clouds above us. I wonder what he sees or if the sky looks different to me than it does to him.

"Whatcha thinking about?" I ask, stomping my cigarette out when he does.

"You."

"Me?" I stare at him in awe.

"I ain't never met nobody like you. In Rosedale, all the girls were the same. Just gettin' by in life, never knowing what they want. You ain't like that. You do those pageants 'cause they make you happy, and you offered to help me read and you take care of your little sisters. You got somethin' most folks wish they had: a heart."

"Ere'body has a heart, Rowdy."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "They do, but not ere'one knows how to use it. Folks spend their entire lives letting it beat when they can't even feel. Then when it's too late and their lives are over, it explodes, as loud as a firecracker."

Rowdy takes my hand in his and puts it over his chest. It thumps-thumps-thumps and mine is racing too.

"You feel that?" I nod and Rowdy peers into my eyes. I sense our browns and greens mixing together, until I don't recognize my own. "Mine is exploding too, but it ain't a firecracker at all. My heart is beating for you like it's fucking."

"_Fuck-ing_?" My eyes go wide as I whisper the dirty word, scared of saying it out loud. I hear the playful screams from our siblings and Rose Charlotte headed our way, but I don't dare turn my head, not even for a second.

"It pounds real fast," he murmurs back, holding my hand in its place. "And I could stop, Cottonseed. I could stop it if I wanted to."

"But this heart of mine is already in too deep."


	7. Chapter 7: Gator Babies & Glass

**Chapter Seven: Gator Babies & Glass**

I don't see Rowdy the rest of the week. Ma carries us all over town, running errands, volunteering us for this and that, and helping me prepare for the pageant. In the evenings, Papa rants about the gator he hasn't caught and blames Billy and Jacob for setting the traps all wrong.

"How's Carlisle doing?" Ma asks over supper Friday night.

"Just fine," Papa replies, and it almost sounds like a compliment coming from him. "I told him I could use some extra hands and he should get that no good son of his to help out, but he refused. Said Rowdy needed to help Esme with the boys back at home. I ain't never heard of such nonsense in my life."

I don't fault Papa for the way he thinks; it's just the way things are. Men work and the women stay at home.

"She's almost due soon," Ma chips in. "I'm sure she can't do a lot of stuff on her own."

"I reckon," Papa answers. "But when I was 16, I was already helping my old man at the store. Builds good work ethic."

"Times are changing Papa," AJ adds. "Boys now, they go to college."

I want to say that Rowdy can't even read, but it's not my place.

Papa laughs, but AJ isn't even trying to be funny. "College? Not 'round here they don't. Look at us. I got five acres and a huge estate, all without some foolish schooling. You don't need school unless you gonna be a doctor or a lawyer. And I doubt that's what that Masen boy is planning on doing."

It takes everything in me to keep my mouth shut. Papa doesn't know what he's talking about. Rowdy could be anything he wants to be. He's smart. Not book smart maybe, but he's real intelligent and knows stuff most people don't.

Ma senses the uneasiness around the table and changes the subject. "Jessie, help me serve this cherry cobbler. You did a great job helping me."

"I put the crumbs on all by myself," she says proudly.

_Sure looks like it, _I think as I glance at the cobbler on the table with the oversized crumbs.

"You did?" Papa scoops her up into his lap, tickling her round tummy. "Well, I want a big ol' slice."

Jessie giggles and helps Ma place the pies on several dessert plates.

"Charlie, you coming to the cake walk tomorrow? Supposed to be the best one yet."

He hasn't been to one since I was born.

Papa taps his chin like he's thinking about it. "I think I might. Billy said he's going, so I just might."

_Ugh._ If Billy's going then that means Jacob is going.

I can't stand Jacob Black. Or Billy for that matter.

Billy's always trying to hint for Jacob and me to date. Papa doesn't usually like me fooling around with boys, but when it comes to Jacob, he's all into it.

_They'll build the empire, _he says. _Grandbabies that'll keep the gator business going._

I don't want any gator babies.

"Oh! Well that's just grand!" Ma is suddenly overly excited as she places cobbler down in front of me. "The Reverend will be so happy."

I dig into the cherry filling and moan at the sweet taste. Ma always bakes the best desserts.

"Is Esme coming too?" I question. I really want to ask if Rowdy will be there, but that'll look too suspicious.

"She sure is. She made a lemon meringue pie. I'm sure it's delicious."

That didn't answer my real question, but hopefully he'll come.

Papa shakes his head. "A lemon pie? At a cake walk? Is that even allowed?"

I shoot him a dirty look for being so judgmental, but it goes unnoticed.

_Hush, Papa. Just hush._

.

.

.

The church parking lot is filled to the brim with families. Ma hands us each a wad of cash for the raffle tickets and games. Most of the children are outside, and Jessie and AJ scatter as soon as we arrive. There's plenty of competitions and face painting and an inflated air castle. I'm too old for most of the activities, and there's no way I'm messing up my pretty dress.

It's white with ruffles and small pink flowers all over it. My pink bow on the side adds the final touch. Charlotte Rose always gets on me for overdressing, but I'm everything a Southern Belle is supposed to be: perfect.

I glance around for the Masens, but Jacob spots me a mile away.

"Bella!"

He races towards me, dressed in dark slacks and white shirt that's buttoned to the top even though it's hot as the dickens out here. Girls like Rose Charlotte like him, and they fawn over his caramel complexion and dark hair. He's handsome in his own way, but it's his attitude that makes him not my type.

He's no Rowdy.

Jacob finally reaches me and wraps his arm around me in a hug I never asked for.

"Stop calling me that." He calls me Bella just to get on my nerves.

"You know you love it," he says, enclosing one arm around my waist. "The official cake walk doesn't start until two, so we've got a few hours. What do you want to do first?"

I try to pull away and maneuver his hand off of me. "Nothing. I'm looking for Rose Charlotte."

"She's inside helping her mom with the platters." He looks offended that I've distanced myself away from him, but I don't care. He smells like musky cologne and desperation.

"I'm going to go find her. Why don't you go look for Papa? He was just bragging about you earlier," I lie.

Jacob's ego is too big to resist the notion of someone talking about him. "Really? All right. I'll come looking for you in a few minutes. Maybe we can finally get Mr. Embry all wet in the dunk tank."

"Yeah, maybe," I say nonchalantly, running towards the church building hoping to find Rose. She's right where Jacob said she would be, uncovering cakes and arranging them on a table.

"Cotton!" Mrs. Hale's hands are covered with plastic gloves and bits of icing so she gives me a half-hug. "You look beautiful, sugar. Where's Renee at?"

"Thank you," I say graciously. "She's talking up a storm to Miss Sue."

Mrs. Hale's blue eyes twinkle as she laughs. "Poor Miss Sue. I'll go rescue her. Rose Charlotte, go play with Cotton. I've got it from here."

"Thanks!" Rose Charlotte smiles and throws her gloves in the nearest trashcan. She grabs my hand as we walk back outside. "What do you want to do first?"

"Hide from Jacob if we can. He's hounding me again."

Rose sighs. "You don't know how good you've got it. He's cute. I wish he would look at me like he looks at you."

I roll my eyes. "That's 'cause he doesn't know better. You can have him. I don't want any gator babies."

We giggle together and I hear the chugging of an engine as an old, red Chevy pulls into the parking lot. The Masen boys are piled into the back and they jump out as soon as Carlisle stops the vehicle.

"Oooh, look who's here." Rose Charlotte points in the direction I'm already looking. I try to hide my grin as Rowdy glances through the crowd.

I hope he's searching for me.

"Look at you smiling!" Rose catches me and nudges me in the side. "You've got a thing for Rowdy. Don't you lie, Cotton Swan! I know you like the back of my hand."

I glance down and she hits me again. "I knew it!" She scrunches her nose. "Rowdy? Really, Cotton? He's kind of … dirty."

"He can't help it," I argue, defending him. "He ain't got much, but he's as sweet as pie."

She holds her hands up. "Hey! I'm not one to judge. If you like him, then you like him. I suppose he's got nice looking eyes."

I sigh, feeling all gooey inside. _That he does._

"Well go get him!" She pushes me forward, but I feel bad.

"I'm not leaving you here by yourself. If Angela, Bree, and Victoria come…"

I don't finish my statement. She knows those girls ain't nothing but troublemakers. Angela and Bree are Reverend Weber's daughters, and their cousin Victoria ain't got no papa at all. They're all bad news. They like to bully Rose Charlotte and me whenever they get the chance.

"I can fend for myself," she replies. "I'm going to go find Jacob. Let's at least do the cakewalk together, okay?"

"You got it!" I agree as she runs off in Jacob's direction. I straighten the ruffles on my dress and take my time walking towards Rowdy.

He's wearing the same filthy trousers and suspenders I last saw him in, but he's changed his dingy tan shirt for a soft colored blue one.

"Cottonseed." His face lights up when he sees me and I can't help but grin. "Fancy meeting you here."

"At a cakewalk? You should be shocked." I deadpan. "I'm more of a pie runner."

Rowdy chuckles and tosses his arm around me. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Ummm…" I glance around and point to the safest activity that won't mess up my dress. "How about the ball toss?"

Rowdy squints his eyes and notices the sign. He attempts to sound out the words, but gives up within seconds. "What's that say?"

"Ball toss," I answer. "One dollar a ticket."

He shifts his feet uncomfortably. "I can't-I don't have-"

My heart hurts for him, that he's embarrassed. He should be having fun, not worrying about money. I pull out the wad of cash from the pocket of my dress.

"You're not scared, are you Edward Rowdy Masen? I mean, I'd hate for you to get beat by a girl…"

He grins and squeezes my side. "You're on, Cottonseed!"

I laugh as he chases me to the booth, where I hold out my dollar bills. "Six tickets, please."

Riley, Deacon Biers' son, hands me the tickets and I give half to Rowdy.

"All right, you get three balls," Riley explains. "Points are 25, 50, 75, and 100. You get any of the balls in the last hole and you win a prize."

"Ladies first." Rowdy steps back and I toss the first ball. It doesn't even make it into any of the holes.

"You're shooting too wide," Rowdy tells me. "Pull your arm back like this. Aim downward."

His hand covers mine and I shiver from his touch. We swing together and my ball falls in the second hole.

I cheer loudly. "I did it!"

"You sure did." He beams at me. "All right, do the same thing, but a little further."

I take my time and this time, my ball falls into the first slot. I'm glad I made it in, but I pout 'cause I don't win anything.

"That's all right. I'm proud of you. Now let's see if we can turn that frown upside down." I step aside so Rowdy can take his turn. His throw is much quicker and smoother than mine.

His ball falls in the hole marked 75 and he curses, "Shit! Almost had it!"

Riley looks at him in shock, but I giggle. Rowdy tries again and it lands in the same spot.

"Is this rigged? It looks rigged." Rowdy starts to sweat and looks at Riley accusingly.

"I swear, it's fine. You get one more throw."

Rowdy cracks his neck side-to-side and jumps three good times. "All right, you little bastard. Get your ass in there."

Rowdy swings his arm backwards and throws the ball with great force. It circles the last hole and finally falls in.

Riley rings the bell loudly and I yell enthusiastically, "You did it!"

Our arms are wrapped around one another before I even realize what we're doing.

Riley points to the all the prizes behind him, specifically pointing out the male prizes. "What do want? Businesses around town donated lots of items. We've got a baseball with the matching bat, a tool set, even lottery tickets. Just don't tell the Reverend."

Rowdy glances read hard and points to an item on the bottom shelf. "I want that."

"This?" Riley holds up a small blue box that is glittering with a small sparkly item.

Rowdy nods as Riley passes him his prize. Inside is a delicate gold necklace shaped with a clear circle and an ornate design at the bottom.

Rowdy carefully removes it from the box. Before I can object, he slips the strand over my head and pulls my long curls from underneath.

"You ain't gotta give me anything. You should get something for yourself."

He waves his hand, dismissing me. "Naw, I want you to have it."

"That's awfully sweet of you. Thank you." I lift the trinket up between my fingers. "What is it?"

"It's a miniature magnifying glass. See how the tiny handle's got a butterfly attached?"

"Oh!" I smile as the thick crystal of the circle starts to make sense. "Am I supposed to be looking for something this small?"

"No, I reckon not." Rowdy shrugs and traces the chain across my neck with his bare finger. He steps closer to me and holds the tiny circle up to his chest. The pocket of his shirt enlarges.

"But years from now you'll remember the moment I told you I'm falling for you. Then you'll know my love was bigger than anything you could see."


	8. Chapter 8: Funnels & Forgiveness

_Cherry, Mia, and readers: _

_I bake cupcakes like I give hugs- too big and too long. I hearts y'all. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Funnels &amp; Forgiveness<strong>

I don't know what to say. I ain't never had nobody have feelings for me before.

It feels like I've got all these butterflies in me and they're just fluttering to get out.

It feels like life.

Rowdy kisses me on my forehead and smiles crookedly. "Don't you say anything back. I don't want any words coming out of your mouth that ain't true. But you can tell me you like me. If you do, I mean. I'll take that. For now."

My head is spinning and I'm bursting with happiness. I don't know what this love thing means, so he's right—I won't say it just yet. But I'm awfully fond of him in ways I don't understand.

"Okay, I like you."

It seems silly coming from me, and not quite enough, but Rowdy chuckles.

"You made my day, Cottonseed." He takes my hand in his, and even though mine is much smaller, it fits just right.

As if it was meant to be.

"Now let's see if we can find the little ones. I was supposed to be keeping an eye on 'em before you distracted me."

I can't keep my other fingers from touching the necklace he gave me. I'm going to keep it forever. Even when I'm old and gray and dead, I'll have it in my casket with me.

I wonder if Jesus will allow me to take it through the pearly gates?

Probably not, but I believe I can sneak it in.

We stop for a funnel cake, 'cause I'm kind of an addict when it comes to powdered sugar. Rowdy and I take turns biting the crispy edges and then we find Jessie, Emmett, AJ, and Jasper jumping around in the bouncy house castle. AJ squeals with glee as Jasper holds her hands and they jump simultaneously.

"Cotton! Come! In! It's! Fun!" I laugh 'cause her words are broken up every time she bounces.

"I'm fine. I was just checking on you," I yell through the dividing net.

"O! Kay!"

I giggle as Jessie tumbles and falls on Emmett, who has somehow lost his shirt. His fat jiggles and my littlest sister gets a mouthful of chub.

"You want to walk around some?" Rowdy suggests.

"Sure, but I gotta look for Rose Charlotte first. I'm supposed to meet her for the cake walk, but I don't wanna leave her stranded for that long." We stroll past the cotton candy stand and face painting station. I finally see Mrs. Hale walk by carrying a load of boxes.

"Mrs. Hale, have you seen Rose?"

Mrs. Hale nods. "Back towards the slip-n-slide, sug. She was playing with the Weber girls."

My face drains as Mrs. Hale walks away whistling.

"What's wrong?" Rowdy grabs me roughly by the shoulders. "What is it?"

I have to hold back my tears from falling. I knew I shouldn't have left Rose by herself. "I have to find her! These girls—Angela, Bree, and Victoria—they go to school with us. They're as mean as rattlesnakes, Rowdy. They steal our lunches and trip us in the cafeteria, and once they broke into our lockers and hid all of our stuff around the school. One time, when Alice had to go to the bathroom at evening service, she caught the three of them playing with an Ouija board. She didn't know what it was, she just thought it was a game. They wouldn't let her join in, of course, so she started crying. Minutes passed and Mama told me to go look for her. When I did, I found they had locked her in one of the stalls. So I broke their board, stuffed it into the trash, and told Ma. They've been after me ever since. And Rose Charlotte, too, just 'cause she's my best friend. And now I've left her all by herself. Who knows what they'll do!"

Rowdy rocks me back and forth as a tear slips from my eye. He pulls back and wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. "Don't you cry. We'll find her, I promise!"

I run through through the crowds of people with Rowdy stumbling behind me. We reach the slip-n-slide, but none of the girls are anywhere to be found. I search and search, but there's nothing nearby but a huge delivery truck with Midway Rentals printed on the side. I finally notice several pairs of legs just on the side of the tires, and see Rose Charlotte's favorite pair of red Keds.

"This way!" I tug Rowdy in their direction and I hear the crying sobs before I see her. We turn the corner of the truck and find Bree and Victoria holding armfuls of cotton candy. Angela is stuffing it into Rose Charlotte's mouth as she cries and chokes on mounds of the spun pink sugar.

"Hey!" Rowdy darts in front of Angela and pushes her hand away before she can torture Rose anymore. When Rose sees me, she races to me, spitting out the cotton candy. I embrace her in a hug and try to soothe her tears by rubbing her back and blonde hair.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rowdy grabs all of the cones out of their hands and throws them on the ground.

"And who are you?" Victoria says, twirling her red hair around her finger.

"I'm your fucking worst nightmare if I catch you messing with her again." Rowdy breathes heavily and puffs his broad chest outward.

"Buzz off, Dirt Boy!" Bree says sarcastically. "It ain't none of your business. It's between us and blondie."

Angela snaps her fingers as if she's solved a puzzle. "I know you! You're one of the Masens. Yeah, didn't my pop have to bring your family food this week?" She laughs, as if poverty is something funny. "You should see his place. Broken down shithole. Looks like a tornado came and spit it back out. So here's the thing, _Masen. _You didn't see any of this, got it? 'Cause if you do, then I'll have to tell my parents you were being mean to me, and then your mother won't get any of that medicine she was asking for. Or the food. So if I were you, I'd walk away. It would be a shame if Blondie and Princess got hurt when you weren't around."

I shake my head in dismay. "Rowdy, let's go."

"Cotton, you can't just-"

I know what pride looks like and Rowdy's got plenty of it. But I don't want his family getting hurt because of it. Or Rose. I don't care about myself, but I don't want others being affected because he's too proud to walk away.

"Let's go. _Please._" I reach for his hand as the three girls laugh.

"That's right, Dirt Boy. Run along."

"Did you see his clothes? Ew."

"Daddy said part of the proceeds today are for his family. Ain't that pitiful? I bet you somethin's wrong with Esme and her baby! It's always the scum with the nasty diseases…"

I grab a wad of napkins from the nearest food booth to help Rose, but Rowdy is racing ahead of us. Not too fast, but enough that I know he wants to be left alone.

"Rowdy! Wait!"

He turns around only to tell me he's leaving. "I'm going home. I'll see you later, Cotton."

He stops long enough to get his brothers out of the bouncy house. As I'm wiping Rose's face, I see him find Esme and whisper in her ear. Her smile is immediately gone as he talks. She nods and holds her back as she stands up and gestures towards Carlisle.

Within a minute the Masens are gone, Chevy and all.

"I hate them, Rose," I say angrily, brushing back her hair with my fingers. "I hate them all! I hope they burn in Hell!"

Rose Charlotte gasps. "You can't say that, Cotton! No matter how mean our enemies are, we have to forgive them. That's what Jesus says."

I stop wiping her face and wave my hands dramatically. "Then tell me, Rose, what's Jesus got to say about a bunch of snobby teenagers who pick on the poor? What's Jesus got to say about girls who nearly choke another to death all 'cause they felt like it? You think He'd tell me to forgive that?"

Rose tosses the napkins in the trash and holds my quivering shoulders steady.

"Yes, Cotton. Jesus would tell you to love 'em. Even when they're fighting and being mean and attacking others with their spitefulness, you win 'em back with love. Hate spreads, Cotton. But love?"

Rose squeezes me tightly, even though her face is tinted pink and her shirt is wet with tears.

"Ain't enough Webers in the world that can stop that."


	9. Chapter 9: Breaks & Breaths

**Chapter Nine: Breaks & Breaths**

I can't let Rowdy leave like this.

I can't allow people like the Webers to tear down everything and everyone around them without even trying to make it better.

I run through the crowd of church folks, hiking up my dress. Jacob catches me mid-step, twisting and grabbing me by the arm. "Bella, where you off to in such a rush?"

"Ouch!" I answer, breathing heavily. "Get off of me. I need to find Rowdy!"

"Rowdy? That Masen fellow?" Jacob's soft features harden at my explanation. "You taking a liking to him, is that it?"

"Maybe I have," I say bitterly. "It ain't none of your business, Jacob Black!"

"It is my business when I tell Charlie!" he threatens with a humorless laugh.

I scowl, hating him more with every passing second. _Why can't he just let me be? _

"Shut up, Jake. You don't scare me. You tell Papa all you want and I'll tell him you put your hands on me!"

Jacob releases my arm but doesn't back off. "You're too good for him, Bella. Them Masens ain't nothing but filth and dirty words. You should hear Carlisle cursin' up a storm on the boat. You know Charlie raised you better than to be with a boy like Rowdy."

"You don't even know him," I fume.

"Just as well," he replies. "But don't you come a'cryin' to me when he breaks your heart."

I glare at Jacob, seething with hatred that can only come from the devil. "He would never do that. And trust me, even if he did, you'd be the last person I'd think of!"

I leave Jake standing as my boots flap against the hot pavement. I keep running until I'm off of church grounds and on the dirt road called Hardy Lane. I don't care that the rubber from my boots keeps chafing against my skin, or that I feel the tulle of my dress scratching against my thigh. I don't care that I'm running out of breath, or that a pick-up truck beeps at me when I run too close to the middle of the road.

I keep sprinting until I get on our street. Gravel rocks fly up behind me as I race through the overgrown weeds and patches of ant hills that have set up homes in the soil. The Masens' rusty truck sits in the driveway with it's tarnished paint eroding in the sun.

Dashing up the stairs, I pound on the door until Esme answers. "Cotton? Good heavens, child. What's wrong?"

I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath.

"Rowdy," I say, gasping. "Where's Rowdy?"

Esme may not be a God-following, Bible-reading Baptist, but even a sinner knows when they're lying.

"He's not here," she says softly.

"You're fibbing!" I accuse her. "Where is he?"

I push past her, making my way through their sparsely decorated living room. "Cotton! He ain't here!"

I ignore her, trying to navigate their house. Their kitchen is painted in ugly browns and yellows, with the handles falling off the cabinets. An old pot sits on the stove, smelling of day-old lima beans.

I hear a slight noise coming from upstairs and I notice the stairwell to my left. I climb it, two stairs at a time, with Esme following behind me at a slower pace. "Cotton!"

The hallway is narrow, with most of the doors closed. I open them one by one, revealing not much of anything. There's a small bathroom with no curtain for the shower, a bedroom with two beds and toys scattered about, and a tiny linen closet filled with knickknacks and worn towels.

There's another bedroom, slightly bigger than the last, but it's not Rowdy's. It must be Esme and Carlisle's because there's a dingy flowered bedspread and jewelry box on the dresser. I huff, following the path to the last bedroom. I can hear quiet voices murmuring just as Esme catches up to me.

"Cotton, don't go in there!"

I hold her gaze, the one begging me not to open the door. I don't know why I'm shaking so hard, but it has everything to do with secrets that lurk in their house. My trembling fingers turn the doorknob slowly.

When the door opens, Esme gasps.

Carlisle shuffles his foot ever so slightly, but other than that the scene before me is normal, except for the fact that all of the Masen boys are crowded into what must be Rowdy's room. They all look at me in surprise.

"Cotton?"

Rowdy sits on the bed, adjusting his shirt as Carlisle clears his throat and gives Esme a long glance. Mr. Masen gestures towards the door and Esme breathes what must be a sigh of relief.

I don't know why.

"Heyya, Cotton!" Little Emmett grins and runs towards me, wrapping his arms around me. "You got any candy?"

"Hey, buddy." I can't help but hug him back and he smells like fudge and mischief. "No … but I got a few dollars on me if you want it."

He's all teeth and chubby grins as I dig into my dress pocket, giving him the wad of cash. He'll need it more than I ever will.

Jasper looks awkwardly at me and then looks back at Rowdy. Rowdy gives him a nod and then Jasper leaves. He avoids talking to me.

"C'mon, Emmett. Let's go downstairs." Jasper leads Emmett out of the door, tugging on his arm.

"Can we go to the market?" Emmett begs, holding the few dollars like they're gold. "I want some gummies and sour twists, and a chocolate covered bear with caramel inside."

They leave us be when Jasper shuts the door behind them. Rowdy looks at me curiously. "What are you doing here, Cotton?"

"Looking for you," I answer slowly, glancing around. Rowdy's room looks … typical, I reckon. He's got the largest space out of everyone, and though there isnt't much in it I can tell it's his. There are all sorts of balls on his dresser—footballs, baseballs, even a soccer ball with the seams pulling apart. He's got one picture hanging up; it's of a younger him, smiling like the world ain't never done him wrong.

"I'm fine. Sorry I left you at the cake walk, but those girls…" He trails off as anger crosses his face. "I wouldn't be a gentleman if I slugged 'em across their prissy little faces."

I shrug, thinking of all sorts of ways I wish I could beat them. "I wouldn't hold it against you."

Rowdy nods, but doesn't attempt to move.

"What was everyone doing?"

Rowdy fidgets his hands and refuses to answer. I walk slowly towards him and gaze into his eyes. "Rowdy?"

He sighs and shifts his body around. I almost stop him when I see him trying to pull up his shirt. He reveals his back, which is covered in a large bandage.

My fingers shake I slowly pull away the medical tape. There's a large bruise and his skin is a stark red.

"Rowdy! What on earth happened to you?"

He chuckles, but winces when I pull his shirt back down. "Scraped it across the truck when I leapt into the back. Pop was helping me bandage it up."

"Does it hurt?"

"Like a dickens," he grins. "Fat-ass Emmett rolled overtop of me and marked me up some kind of good. Don't worry, I banned him from the cookie jar for a week. We don't have a cookie jar, but his tears served me justice."

I laugh and he grasps my hands, pulling me towards him. 'Keep doing that."

"Doing what?" I glance at him in confusion, and before I know what's happening, he pulls me onto his lap. Something tells me I shouldn't be doing this, sitting in a room all alone with a boy, but I can't find it in myself to move.

_This can't be wrong. It can't be a sin when you're this happy._

"Laughing. Keeps my soul a'smiling when I hear you laugh."

"Your soul smiles?' I peer into Rowdy's green eyes as he brushes back my curls. Something inside of me stirs a give-all-take-none kind of feeling. I don't know what it is between us, but I want more of it. More of him and this. Crooked smiles and soft grazes. More of everything.

"It didn't always," he says solemnly. "You ever had to smile even when you didn't feel like it?"

I nod. Plenty of times, like when Ma made me volunteer in the children's choir. Or when it was picture day at school and I got stuck wearing my orange shirt instead of the yellow one I couldn't find.

But somehow, I don't think that's what he means, so I remain silent.

"Sometimes, Cottonseed, I don't feel like smiling. Days like today, when I've got to defend who I am to folks that don't matter. It chips away at my spirit. But then I think of you; you and your silly boots and pretty dresses, and all that joy you got bubbling up inside of you. You give me your happiness. For a fella like me without much of anything, it's as if you give me life."

I feel both bliss and sadness at his confession. "I can't take credit for that."

"Too late, sweet girl. I'm inhaling you in and there's nothing you can do about it."

Rowdy's fingers tickle the side of my neck as his lips trace my ear.

"Ain't no difference between loving and breathing, Cottonseed. But when it comes to you, I feel myself forgetting to do one."


	10. Chapter 10: Tuesday & Twinkles

_Blueeyedcherry, you sweet non-Miracle Whip eater you...TY for your review on FicSisters. This is why I hump you so much! _

_Mia sent me a package in the mail. It was all kinds of sweetness and sparkles. It's also the start of our revolution to overthrow the world._

_I have a FB Group, Cadillac's Wildflowers! Come join for Cotton Belt Teasers, Pics, and Shenanigans._

_Readers- I love ya like heart-crushing, love-deepening, skin-whispering crazy. Have a great weekend!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Tuesday &amp; Twinkles<strong>

Papa calls the Masens heathens when they don't show up to church on Sunday. Mama says Rowdy's back still hurts, so there isn't any point in any of them going, but Papa isn't buying it.

Even though Jessie and AJ beg me to walk them over to the Masen farmhouse, I refuse. Rowdy needs his rest and I don't want to seem like a lovesick, needy child.

Turns out, the Masen boys come to us on Tuesday afternoon. Ma's gone to Jackson to pick up my pageant dress, so it's just me and my sisters out in the front yard. I practice my baton in tiny white shorts and a grey shirt that hangs off my shoulder. Papa throws a fit when I dress like this, but according to Ma, "anything for the crown goes". 'Sides, it's hot outside and I ain't going nowhere in public. Jessie rehearses with me, but she's only using a stick. I'm not letting her borrow anything else of mine. She tossed the last one in the creek, and I guarantee it's in Alabama by now.

Jessie whacks me in the leg and I cringe, hopping on one foot. "Dangit, Jessie! Move over!"

"Sorry, Cotton." She scoots over a whole two inches. She's dressed in her black bathing suit and looks like she's got two mosquito bites on her chest.

"It's a front windmill," I explain, twirling the baton above my head and then swinging it in three perfect circles. "Keep your fingers loose. You can't hold it too tight."

"Not too tight," she repeats, dropping her stick again. I sigh in defeat as AJ jumps up from the front step.

"Jasper!" She drops her handful of marbles and runs down the driveway towards Rowdy, Jasper, and Emmett.

Rowdy walks in my direction, wearing a faded white tee and jeans caked in mud. A cigarette hangs from his lips and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

"Damn, Cottonseed." He looks me up and down as I brush away a few tendrils of curls that have escaped from my ponytail.

"Hush, you!" I retort, rolling my eyes. "I'm only practicing. I'll go change."

"Don't." I can't help but blush when he looks at me like this, and I know it's not from the heat.

"Yeah, okay," I mumble, not paying him any mind. "Is your back feeling better?" I try to assess him, see if he's in any pain, but he's standing upright.

"I'm fine," he replies, tossing his cigarette. "I came to see if you were ready for my reading lesson."

"Sure, I'm done." I look to see if AJ will be all right out here, but her and Jasper are tossing marbles while Jessie keeps poking Emmett's belly.

I lead the way into the house, but Rowdy seems keen on walking behind me and not keeping up.

"Go wait in the library," I tell him. "I've got to get out of these clothes. They're sticking to me."

Rowdy lingers in the hallway while I climb the stairs and dash towards the bathroom. I wash my face with cold water and smooth back my hair before I head in the direction of my room. Rowdy is there, sitting on my bed like he never heard me.

"Didn't I tell you to wait downstairs?"

He smirks, as if he had no intention of doing any such thing. "Pops told me I was hard of hearing."

"I believe it." Opening my closet, I pull out a simple dress to change into when Rowdy sneaks up behind me. I feel his strong hands caress the skin beneath my shirt as his chin rests on my shoulder.

He makes my knees go weak and they threaten to buckle underneath of me. If I had any self-control I'd leave, but instead I'm doing everything I can to stay.

Rowdy scares me in ways I don't understand. Like now, when he skims my collarbone with his nose. He does it with absent-minded purpose; he's so intentional that he's not.

"What are you doing?" My body is frozen and I'm too restricted by fear to move a muscle.

"Trying to figure something out," he whispers.

"Figure _what _out?" I ask slowly. His fingertips circle just above my belly button, making my skin tingle with tickles.

"If I should kiss you now or kiss you later." Rowdy always talks like he knows exactly what's happening. Maybe I want a choice in this.

_Maybe I don't. _

"Wh-what have you decided?" My words come tumbling out, and I can't think straight. He's making me feel all lightheaded and unsteady. But he holds onto me like he's my grounding.

Rowdy's breath blows across my skin as he answers. "I'm debating, Cottonseed. See, if I kiss you now, I know I'm not going to be able to stop. And then I'll just keep thinking about you over and over again. Late at night. When I'm _alone_."

He presses the rough denim material against me and my eyes go wide. My heart won't stop pounding in my chest and I can't remember a single thing that's more important.

He's touching me.

He's touching me with…

He's touching me with his…

_Our Father who art in Heaven… _

Two fingers skim the edge of my shorts and I feel goose bumps in places they shouldn't be. "And then I was thinking, if I wait and kiss you later, you'll want it more than I do."

"That ain't true," I say, and I know I'm a liar. I already want him to kiss me.

_Please, please, please._

Rowdy chuckles. "Just for that, I think I'll wait."

I moan when I don't mean to. His hand slides across my belly and it's a giving me a warm, sinking, falling feeling. He laughs again and his lips peck the side of my cheek.

By the time I can breathe again, he's gone.

And so, I follow.

.

.

.

"The s-sun do-di-did nnnn-ot ss-shh-hho-"

"Shine."

"Right. The sun did not shine. It wash … no was … it was too we … wheat-"

"Wet."

"Wet to p-p-play. So we sat in the ha-ha. Haaa-ssss." Rowdy frowns at Jessie's _Cat in the Hat _book, trying to sound out the words. "We sat in the has. Wait, that don't make no sense."

"House," I correct him, pointing to the word. "It has the 'ou' sound, not 'ah'. House."

"Got it. House. We sat in the house." He smiles through his frustration and I'm just as happy for him.

"See? You just read your first page."

"I reckon I did!" Rowdy's grin is all lopsided and charming. Papa was wrong; Rowdy can do anything he puts his mind to. He's trying. Any other sixteen-year-old would have given up by now, but not Rowdy. He tries 'cause he wants to make something of himself. That's more than I can say for people twice his age.

"You're making this easy, Cottonseed. Thank you." He doesn't have to thank me for anything; I do it because I want to.

His mossy green eyes twinkle and everything in my head jumbles. It's like he's holding me and won't let go.

For the first time in my life, I want to.

I lean across the table, over our book, over that voice that keeps telling me a girl should never kiss a boy. His hand touches me, easy breezy, light and soft, and I want to kiss those lips that tell me sweet things.

I want to give in and put my heart out.

Rowdy smiles as my eyelids start to close. I bet his lips are warm and soft. I bet they'll send chills down my spine. I bet they'll curl my toes like they do in the movies.

I bet they're everything.

His arm slides up mine as I lean in to give my first kiss.

"ANNABELLA RAIN COTTON SWAN!"

I suck in a horrified gasp as Papa stands angrily at the door of the library. I glance down, realizing I forgot to change my clothes. I'm a slutty sinner, embraced not in the hands of God, but of Edward Rowdy Masen.

There will be no kiss today. But there is a first of something.

Papa storms towards us, ready to jerk Rowdy out of his chair.

"Shit!"

Someone's cursing, and for once it ain't Rowdy.


	11. Chapter 11: Fibs & Fountains

_Welcome back! Happy Monday and remember, cupcakes are on me!_

_But not the pink ones. Those are mine. *snatches them all back*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Fibs &amp; Fountains<strong>

Papa's hollering so loud the rest of our siblings come running in from outside. Papa grabs the edge of Rowdy's shirt, yanking him right out of his chair.

"You trying to be fast with my daughter? Do you know what I will do to you, boy?" I expect Rowdy to start sweating, but he's holding his own.

'Mr. Swan, it ain't-!"

"I saw you two!" Papa bellows, and he curls his fist tightly around the fabric. "I saw it with my own eyes! You calling me a liar?"

"Papa! We didn't-"

"Hush your mouth, Cotton! I haven't even gotten to you yet!" Papa glares at me, his nostrils flaring in rage. "This ends now! No daughter of mine is gonna be gallivanting with some hooligan!"

"He's not a hooligan!" I yell back. "I was helping him read!"

"What?" Papa's voice is still loud, but his expression turns confused.

"Papa," AJ steps forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "Rowdy was having trouble with some words, so Cotton offered to help. See? Look at all of the books." She points to the stack on the table, but Papa's still not convinced.

"Then why were y'all so close?"

"Papa, remember when the teacher said I wasn't pronouncing my r's right?" Jessie adds in. "She said to practice making the sounds so I could. It helps. Listen. Ooooo."

_I owe my sisters my life now._

I nod enthusiastically, catching on. "Right. I was helping him pronounce the words. He wasn't saying the 'oooo' part correctly. Do it, Rowdy. Say it now. Oooo."

Next thing I know, all of us are saying "oooo", pushing our lips together so it looks like we're all kissing the air.

Papa is silent for twelve seconds and then releases Rowdy's shirt in frustration. "Dammit, that's enough!"

Emmett adds one more 'oooo' before Rowdy gives him the side eye.

"I still don't like it," Papa says wearily, but in a calmer voice. "Ain't no more lessons going on unless one of us is home, you understand?"

I nod, trying not to breathe a sigh of relief. "Yes, Papa."

"And you … I'm watching you, boy. You remember that. I'm watching you real closely." Papa stares Rowdy down and then turns to me. "Put some clothes on, Cotton. You know better. Last thing I need is the Reverend stopping by with you dressed like that!"

Despite trying to cover my legs with my hands, I feel as naked as a jaybird.

"I stopped by to pick up some tools. Dang motor on the boat cut out on me again. You're Jasper, right?" Jasper nods his head at Papa. "You look like a worker. Come help me look for my wrench set."

"Yessir." Jasper follows Papa as he leaves and AJ winks at me. The others leave us be as well.

The commotion is all over, and I know Rowdy and I have barely escaped with our lives.

"Fuck, Cottonseed. I didn't know you had it in you!" Rowdy chuckles as I start collecting the books in my hand.

"Shut up, Rowdy. We could have died. You don't know Papa. He's as mean as a rattlesnake when he wants to be. We have to be more careful."

"Like this?" Rowdy reaches for my behind and gives it a rough squeeze. I swat his hand away, both intrigued and horrified.

"Stop! You're going to get me in trouble!"

Rowdy takes the books from my arms and pulls me close to him. With one hand on my waist, he uses the other to gently caress my face. "Ain't nothing going to happen to you, Cotton. Even if Charlie don't want us together, I'd keep fighting for you until the death. Nothing can keep us apart."

"Except my family," I say quietly.

"Nope, not even them." His fingertips travel down the side of my cheek. "I learned something today and it didn't come from a single book. See, your daddy is worried 'cause he don't want to lose his little girl, 'specially to a poor boy like me. But he ain't scared of you growing up. He's scared of you growing away."

I frown, causing my eyebrows to push together. "What's that mean?"

"It means Charlie is a good man. There's a lot of daddies in this world that don't give a shit about their children. But your old man? He'd protect you from all the bad in this life if he could. Hell, I even respect him for it. But one day you're going to have to tell him the truth. He can't judge you for that."

"Then you don't know him very well," I mutter.

"I know he didn't believe a word we said. Did you see his face? He let it go 'cause whatever he said next was going to hurt your feelings. And no matter how furious he may be, he's not going to upset his daughter. Anger condemns, Cottonseed, but love saves even the worst of us."

I let his words soak in and through me. Did Papa really know the truth? I wasn't sure, but Rowdy led me to believe. Maybe he was right and Papa loved me enough to let me make my own decisions. But I wasn't willing to find that out today.

Rowdy presses his lips against my forehead. "Go upstairs and change. I want to show you something."

I walk away feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. There isn't any use in praying over a situation like this. Not even baby Jesus would forgive all the lying I did today.

.

.

.

After I'm dressed in a light blue dress and coral colored wellies, I walk out to town with Rowdy. He won't point out where we're going specifically, but when I'm with him the specifics don't matter. We chat along the way and I find out all sorts of stuff I didn't know before. He tells me how he loves mud and football, and that his favorite food is cheesecake, even though he's only eaten it once.

"And your favorite color?" I ask, holding his hand.

"I don't have one."

I gasp in shock, stepping on the cobblestone of our town center. "How can you not have a favorite color? I told you mine was yellow. Seriously, what is it?"

"I don't have _one_," he repeats, emphasizing the last word. "You believe that God made colors, right?"

"Right," I say, agreeing.

"And that He made you?"

"Right."

"So how can I choose?" He asks, shrugging. "God made all sorts of colors, and they're all inside of you. _You_ are my favorite color, Cottonseed. That's why I don't have just one."

He squeezes my hand and I melt a little more.

Rowdy grins just as we reach the center of the square. Forks County doesn't have much. It's a quaint little town, right on the outskirts of eastern Mississippi, and there is no downtown. From where we are standing, I can see Mr. Dell's yogurt shop and the insurance agency that nobody ever goes to. Ms. Tanya, my pageant instructor, has a dance hall too. She bought it out when the knickknack store closed up shop. I remember 'cause Ma used to always come home with random ugly vases that Papa would tell her to take back. She never did though.

"What are you showing me?" I ask.

"This." Rowdy waves his arm towards nothing and I glance around.

"The fountain?"

The fountain in the middle of the square is nothing but a man perched on a horse. It's named after Jenkins J. Forks, founder of our county. He won a battle or something, but I'm not sure 'cause I never paid attention in history class.

"Yep." Rowdy gestures for me to sit on the edge with him and I do. The water flows out behind us, splashing us as it hits the pool below. "When we moved from Rosedale, I was bitter at my parents. Well, I was bitter about a lot of things, but mostly about moving. Life won't the best for us, but it was ours, you know? I didn't know what to expect. But we drove to town, and the first thing I noticed was this fountain. Everybody in town didn't even acknowledge it. They'd keep walking by, minding their own business and nobody stopped to look at it."

"That's 'cause there ain't nothing special about it, Rowdy."

"Then, no. But now there is. This fountain is special 'cause it's here where I will take both of your hands in mine for the first time." Rowdy grasps my hands and gazes at me with his striking green eyes. I feel like the fountain is ordinary compared to him. "It will be the first time I officially tell you something very important. Cotton, I love you. I told you I was falling for you, but this here is different. I love with you my whole damn heart. I know 'cause I can't stop thinking about you. I know 'cause every time I get around you, you make me happier than when I wasn't. But most of all, I know 'cause every morning the sun don't rise until I whisper your name."

I bite my lip trying to hold back my smile. I don't think that's how it works, but I accept it, 'cause Rowdy says it's so.

"Cotton all-the-flowers-a'bloomed-when-I-was-born Swan, will you be my girl?"

I swallow and stare at Rowdy in perfect honesty. "I can't answer that."

Rowdy's gaze and hope both drop at once. I lift his chin so that he can look at me directly. "I can't answer that 'cause my next sentence will answer your question. I love you too, Rowdy."

Years from now, I will argue to those who ask that it was I who kissed him, but for now it doesn't matter.

Rowdy's lips touch mine and it is the most absolute warmest, soul-giving, heart-consuming, simply-joyful moment in my entire life. He takes my heartbeats and makes them his own. Our breaths, lips, and feelings mold together creating a bliss I didn't know existed. He's soft and gentle, ever-giving and cherished-devotion. He is mine.

Our lips finally break apart, but our bodies do not as he leans his forehead against mine. He exhales heavily as if I am the reason for his breathlessness.

"We bloom forever?" he asks, as he helps me stand up.

"Forever," I answer.

When I glance down at the spot he was sitting in, Rowdy smiles.

He already knew.

Embedded and carved into the cement of the fountain that is now special are three simple words.

_Rowdy & Cotton._


	12. Chapter 12: Celebrations & Carlisle

_What you read isn't what I write and what I write isn't what you read... hehehe :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: Celebrations &amp; Carlisle<strong>

The month of June flies by before I know it. I stay busy of course, doing lessons with Ms. Tanya and getting fittings for my pageant dresses. I spend most of my days with Rowdy and my nights dreaming of him. Sometimes he's gone, like when he had to care of Emmett when he caught a summertime cold, or when he and Esme left town to visit his grandma back in Rosedale. I'd miss him, but he always came back, strolling down my driveway, cigarette in hand.

On the Fourth of July, twenty-four hours before my competition, Ma tells me to go fetch the Masens for our annual barbecue. She always went all out, decorating the whole place in red, white, and blue. Practically the whole town would come, excited for the Swan Extravaganza. We'd have barbecue chicken, hot dogs, coleslaw, potato salad, and so many desserts Jessie would get a cavity every year.

AJ and Jessie decide to go with me down the road, skipping along the way.

"Cotton, you think the Webers will come?" AJ looks awfully worried and I feel bad that she's scared.

"You know they will. But if they come near you, just say the word. I ain't letting them hurt you, Alice Jo." They always show up, ready to bully us and claim it was an accident. Jacob will be there too, and I can only hope he'll be distracted by Rose Charlotte.

"I know, Cotton. Maybe I'll just stay close to Jasper," she muses. For once I agree with her. Those girls will be less likely to mess with her if a boy's nearby; especially a Masen, since they're so repulsed by them.

We reach the Masens' farmhouse and AJ and Jessie scamper right up the steps and open the door without even knocking. Esme doesn't mind though. I think she loves them like her own. I follow behind them, taking my time, when I hear a banging and moaning from behind the house. It's coming from the barn and I follow the noise until I'm tucked between two shrubs.

Rowdy comes out as I stay hidden, holding himself together with slumped shoulders. I could be wrong, but I swear he's crying because his eyes are bloodshot. He's limping some kind of bad, barely moving at a snail's pace.

Carlisle follows behind, hammer in hand, pounding it in his hand.

_Is he…? _

_Did he…?_

I cover my mouth in disbelief, assessing the multitude of bruises down Rowdy's arms.

My feet are at a standstill and though I want to move, I can't. I literally can't. It's not until Jessie shouts my name that I race back towards the front door.

I want to pretend that it never happened.

But I can't pretend that it didn't.

.

.

.

Esme tells the girls their family will come by later. I'm caught up in my own thoughts at the barbeque when Rose Charlotte helps me arrange the flags on the table.

"So anyways, Mary thinks she can steal the song from me, you know? She can't even hit the high notes. She stole the mic from me, right at choir practice. How dare she! Everybody knows she can't sing worth a lick!"

"Uh huh."

"And then I told her Jesus don't like ugly, and the Revered said I can sing the lead and she don't have no right trying to take my solo! I told her just like it was."

"Uh huh."

"Then she gets in my face and Riley had to break us up, 'cause Lord knows what I was going to do next. I mean, I wouldn't have hit her, but…"

Rose Charlotte finally notices how distracted I am and touches my elbow. "You all right, Cotton?"

I shake my head, not answering. I fear a flood of tears is going to come pouring out and I can't do this, not right now.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?"

I nod, ducking my head and whispering. "What if … what if you saw something bad? I mean _real _bad. Would you tell?"

"Bad like what?"

Rose Charlotte is my best friend, but it still doesn't feel right to go blabbing the Masens' business. I need to be smart about this.

"Bad like … hurt bad. If you saw someone getting hurt, would you tell?"

"I would," Rose answers immediately. "You always have to do the right thing, even when it don't feel like it's the right thing. But, I would talk to the person getting hurt first. Then I would tell. Sometimes victims don't want help. You still have to make a decision, but I would let them know what you're doing."

"Okay."

Rose Charlotte assesses me carefully. "You're not…"

I dismiss her fears. "No no, not me, Rose. I'm fine. Just someone I used to know long ago."

She smiles. "Whew. I'm glad, 'cause if it was you or someone around here, Forks County would have a field day! Could you imagine?"

I chuckle without humor alongside her. "Yeah."

"C'mon," Rose urges me. "Let's go see if we can steal some of that whipped cream. Miss Sue made it from scratch, don't you know?"

.

.

.

By the afternoon, everybody who's anybody is laughing and carrying on in our yard. The deacons from the church have set up a horseshoe game. The small ones are blowing huge bubbles, screaming and giggling as they chase each other. Even the Weber girls are having fun and leaving AJ alone. Ma is in a deep conversation with the Reverend's wife, Maggie Weber, on our front stoop. I eavesdrop and act as if I'm fixing a plate of watermelon.

"My, my. What a shame. Those poor Masens. You'd think Carlisle would get help."

"Too proud," Maggie replies. "Says there ain't a problem and he's got it under control. I swear he's going to end up killing him!"

"We should do something," Ma says kindheartedly. "God knows Esme can't keep hiding a secret like that."

"I tried, Renee, but it ain't my place. The church can only do so much. But like you said, it's abuse through and through. Edward's blood will be on their hands."

I jump when two fingers tap me on the shoulder, interrupting my spying.

"Nosy much?"

Jacob grins down at me and steals a slice of watermelon from my plate. "Go away, Jacob. I'm not talking to you."

"Why? Because of our little spat?" He shrugs nonchalantly. "C'mon, Bella, you know me better than that. We can still be friends, right?"

"Not when you're acting all mean, we can't. I don't take threats kindly."

He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. "I was only kidding, Bella. You've got to learn when to take a joke. Seriously, let's hug it out."

Jacob wraps his arms around me before I know what's happening. In a split second, he half-spins me around until I see the Masens' truck roll into our driveway.

Rowdy is sitting in the back, as always, staring directly at me.

I push Jacob off of me as he laughs. _That jerk! He knew what he was doing!_

"All's fair in love and war, right Bella?" He kisses my cheek and struts away. I stand there, looking horrified as Rowdy gapes at me like I've kicked him in the gut.

Carlisle parks his Chevy. When he gets out, he tries to help Rowdy out, but Rowdy snatches his arm away. He says something to his father who, in return, just walks away.

Esme and Jasper and Emmett are left to help him. He tries to make it appear like nothing's wrong, but his limp is as bad as it was this morning. They sit him in the nearest lawn chair available, away from the rest of the guests. Esme kisses his forehead as the boys scatter to join in on the fun.

I make a beeline for Rowdy, but because my view is directly on him I don't notice Carlisle, who grabs my arm. The man has never spoken directly to me, but through his missing teeth, I can hear every word clearly.

"You mind yourself, Swany," he breathes into my ear. "I saw you hiding out on my property this morning. You mind yourself real good. My boy is my business, you understand me?"

I hold my breath, too fearful to speak. But I nod as he tightens his grip and twists my skin until my eyes start to water.

"I'd hate for a girl like you to get hurt. And you will, if you go poking your nose where it don't belong. Now get!"

Carlisle doesn't have to tell me twice. I run as fast as my legs will carry me, and it's not towards Rowdy, who's already gone from his chair.


	13. Chapter 13: Sinking & Suffering

_Oh boy... :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Sinking &amp; Suffering<strong>

That's the thing about being dignified —I have to act like I'm interested in non-interesting people and I have to respect folks that aren't worth respecting.

That's how I get caught in a conversation with Papa and Billy Black when all I want to do is search for Rowdy.

"This way, Cotton," Papa gestures, smiling real wide in his brimmed white hat and suit. "Where you running off to in such a hurry? Billy was just talkin' about you."

I hate when people do that. They ask a question, then follow it up with their own statement. They aren't worried about the answer anyways.

I groan and backtrack towards Papa and Jacob's father. "Hi, Mr. Black."

Billy's a big man, all muscle and wild hair; the image of a gator hunter if ever there was one. "Aww, you stop that nonsense, child. You know better than that."

I grin politely even though I don't feel like it. "Right. Sorry Billy."

"I was just telling Billy what a mighty fine job you did last year," Papa boasts and squeezes my shoulders. "Made the honor roll, she did."

_Barely_, I think to myself. _Miss Kate thought I deserved to fail English, but she knows Papa would've stormed down to the school throwing a fit._

"Is that so?" Billy rubs his chin and I don't like how he's thinking so hard. "You know, my boy's been having trouble in that arithmetic."

_Algebra, Billy. Ain't nobody had arithmetic since 1852._

"Well you know, Cotton here is a tutor, ain't that right?" My face drains as Papa smiles at me, but it's a deceitful smile. He's winning whatever little game he's playing when I was never informed there was a starting line. "Bet she could give him a few lessons."

My stomach sinks as Papa starts planning for my future with Jake. First math tutorials, then a gator wedding, followed by the pitter-patter of gator feet.

Rowdy was right, Papa isn't dumb—he knew exactly what was happening, and he'd do anything to pull us apart in the sneakiest way possible.

"Er, excuse me … I have to go to the ladies' room." I don't even give Papa or Billy the chance to respond. I scan the yard looking for Rowdy, but he's nowhere to be found.

I'm thinking he must have gone into the house. He couldn't have traveled too far, not the way he was walking.

There's all kinds of folks strolling around the house. I hear a gospel hymn playing from our grand piano and the off-key sound of Mary singing from the parlor room. I search every room downstairs and just when I begin to take the stairs, I realize he would have never made the flight.

I must have missed something.

I turn back around, making the usual left down the hall. At the very end, I hear the moaning before I open the door.

"Rowdy?"

He's in the same wicker chair he sat in the very first day we ever spoke to each other. Only there's no sweet boy with kind words and gentle hands.

Rowdy don't look so Rowdy-like anymore.

He's pale and shaking and looks like he's in excruciating pain.

"C-c-c-ot-tonse-ee-ed…" My name falls in syllablesfrom his lips and he's doing all he can to hold himself together. I feel my hatred growing by the second.

I'm not a doctor or anything, but I've heard about internal bleeding. Judging by how he appears, he could be dying before my very eyes.

"Rowdy!" I'm doing everything I can not to sob. I need to be strong for him.

I need to be strong for me.

I grab a white cashmere throw from the nearby sofa and carefully wrap him in it. He doesn't even bother trying to hide his tears.

"Rowdy, this is enough! I have to get help! Wh-what if you-" I can't bring myself to say the words, but if I do nothing, I will be no better than Carlisle.

"S-stay. I'm fine … P-please, s-stay." I nod, squeezing beside him in the chair. He winces with each of my movements, but I hold him carefully, running my fingers through his hair.

"Shhh," I say, attempting to soothe him. "It's all right, Rowdy. I know. I know everything. Damn Carlisle! I know that's your father, but I hate him with a passion!"

His head barely rises as I listen to his whispered words. "It's my fault. I'm to blame. Pop just … he tries, but … I'm a sinner, just like they said in church. The Reverend was right. And now I'm paying for them. Wait a second … who told you?"

_Carlisle tries? That's what he calls abuse by his own parent? Trying? _I get the feeling his scars run deeper than what I can see.

"No one," I admit, kissing his forehead. "I saw it with my own two eyes. Did you honestly think you could have hidden this from me? I was going to find out eventually!"

"I know," he murmurs. "I-I couldn't bring myself to say it. To admit it, you know?"

"You shouldn't have to!" The pitch of my voice hits new octaves as he blames himself for not speaking up earlier. "I saw, but I also heard Ma and Mrs. Weber talking about it…"

"Renee knows too?" Rowdy sounds ashamed, like the secret he's carried hurts more than his bruises.

"She does, but we're going to get you help! You and your whole family."

Rowdy moans again and while I know it's to resist my plan, he's in too much agony to fight me on this. His lips quiver and I do all I can to hold him in my arms. He shouldn't suffer like this.

"I hate him," I seethe. "On all that's godly and biblical, I hate him more the Devil himself!"

"What?" Rowdy finally looks me in the eye, and beyond the pain lies confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Carlisle," I breathe bitterly. "All the hittin' he's done to you! I saw the hammer, Rowdy. He's an awful, awful man. You ain't got to hide anymore. You can tell me the truth. How long has he been beating you, huh?"

Rowdy moves ever so slightly and his cold hand touches my warm one.

"Cotton … Pop don't hurt me. That man's never laid a hand on me. Hell, he'd give me his own limbs if he could."

I…

I don't understand.

I don't get it.

The images in my head blur together. They're adding up, yet I'm trying to subtract pieces that aren't quite fitting.

"_My back," he says simply. "It's why I couldn't sleep. Keeps me up sometimes."_

…

_Rowdy lags behind, not even bothering to catch up. _

"_Keep up," I tell Rowdy, slowing my pace to walk beside him. _

"_I am," he bites back, shoving me to the side._

…

_I grab a wad of napkins from the nearest food booth to help Rose, but Rowdy is racing ahead of us. Not too fast, but enough that I know he wants to be left alone._

…

"_Rowdy! What on earth happened to you?"_

_He chuckles, but winces when I pull his shirt back down. "Scraped it across the truck when I leapt into the back. Pop was helping me bandage it up."_

…

_Papa calls the Masens heathens when they don't show up to church on Sunday. Mama says Rowdy's back still hurts, so there isn't any point in any of them going, but Papa isn't buying it._

…

_He exhales heavily as if I am the reason for his breathlessness. _

…

_Sometimes he's gone, like when he had to care of Emmett when he caught a summertime cold, or when he and Esme left town to visit his grandma back in Rosedale._

…

"_I'd hate for a girl like you to get hurt. And you will, if you go poking your nose where it don't belong. Now get!"_

Rowdy's this little piece in a big world and I'm trying to figure out how it all makes sense. "I'm suffering, Cottonseed, but it ain't by my Pop."

"Then who? Who hurt you like this?"

"Nobody," Rowdy answers solemnly, burying his head in my chest.

"I did this to myself."


	14. Chapter 14: Riddles & Reality

_Cherry and Mia thinks its funny you guise have no idea what's going on. My evilness spreads! :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: Riddles &amp; Reality<strong>

Rowdy's face is drawn tightly in pain, but my eyes narrow at his confession.

"Y-you hurt yourself?" I whisper. He starts to answer, but he runs his trembling fingers through the bronzed locks of his hair instead. I'm so astonished I can only concentrate on the bluish veins on his eyelids.

"Every day by breathing." Somehow, even though we're already touching, he leans closer to me and caresses my cheek.

He's not making any sense. Is he suicidal? Does he have depression like old man Willy who lost his wife Betty? Rowdy hadn't lost somebody from back home, did he?

Unless he's lost himself.

I have a million questions running through my mind, but Esme interrupts us by opening the door.

"Rowdy! Honey, I've been looking all over for you!" It's like I'm not even there as she touches his forehead and brushes back his hair. "Do you need to go home? We can leave. You're not looking too good, sweetie."

"I'm fine, Mama." He weakly pushes her away but the just the sight of her makes my blood boil.

"How could you?" I stand up, making sure not to jerk Rowdy as I point an accusing finger towards her. "Rowdy needs help and all you do is offer to take him home? Have you seen the bruises? Do you even care?"

Esme looks shocked by my anger, but she pushes down my finger. "Now you listen here, Cotton. I know you mean well, but we're doing the best we can!"

"The best you…" I can't even allow her lying words to leave my mouth. "Are you serious? He needs to be committed! He hurts himself with tools and yet you do nothing!"

"Cotton-" Esme tries to interrupt me, but I'm not finished.

"You're a horrible mother! I reckon he'll just keep beating himself until he's black and blue and kills himself. Is that what you want?"

"Cotton-" This time it's Rowdy who says my name, but I hush him with a sweep of my hand.

"It's okay, Rowdy. You're getting help today. I'll tell Papa and maybe he can call somebody. He knows everybody from here to Kentucky. He'll find you people that can make you better."

"COTTON!"

When both Esme and Rowdy shout my name, I quit spittin' out the words that roll off of my tongue.

"What?"

"Cottonseed…"

Rowdy reaches out for my hand and holds my gaze. I feel pity for him, the kind that bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. I feel remorse I couldn't have helped him sooner. I feel resentment towards everyone who tried to hide his secret.

"I didn't mean I hurt myself physically. You think I took a hammer to my own body?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. I saw you. You and Carlisle. At the barn. If Carlisle didn't beat you, and you're not doing it to yourself, then who is?"

Rowdy and Esme lock eyes. She looks like she wants to step forward and explain, but Rowdy barely shakes his head.

"Cotton, I didn't lie. I said these bruises were my fault 'cause it's the truth. I reckon God's making me pay for all the bad I've done in my life, but I didn't cause them. Pop and Mama didn't do it either." Rowdy is breathless as he leans forward in his chair. "Mama, help me stand."

I gawk at the two of them as Esme helps Rowdy rise unsteadily. Rowdy carefully rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Even though it's hot as can be, the thick fabric seems like it's not enough for him. "What do you see Cotton?"

I assess the bruises going up and down each arm. They seem centered at the crease of his forearm and closest to his wrist, but they're there nonetheless.

"Bruises," I answer spitefully.

He nods and Esme helps him turn around. She raises his shirt until I can see the same faded marks are on the lower part of his back. "And here?"

"The same ones. Bruises again."

"You see any others on me?" he asks. I frown as I assess his sides, then his stomach, and even his legs.

"Well … no," I admit. It doesn't mean anything. I don't know why Rowdy would choose to harm himself in only those locations, but when you're suffering like he is, the places don't matter.

"Right." His legs start to shake and Esme helps him sit again. He seems breathless from only that one minute of exerting energy. "So look at my arms again, Cottonseed. Look again real closely. My back is the exact same, but pay attention to what you see."

I don't know why he's making me do this. I've already made up my mind. Still, my fingertips run up and down his arm. I squint my eyes, checking the formation and color of his skin. When I peer close enough I see the tiniest of red dots. In fact, they are so minuscule, they're barely even there.

I can't help myself as I lean him forward in his chair, looking at his back again. The same small red spots are there, just not as many as his arms.

"What are those?"

Rowdy swallows and I get the feeling his next words are going to tear my world apart.

"Needle marks."

"Needle marks?" I repeat. "Why?"

"Cottonseed, I'm sick."

.

.

.

Time has lost all meaning. I don't remember Esme excusing herself so we can talk, or how I became curled up in Rowdy's arms.

I don't know how many seconds or minutes have passed by before I finally speak.

"Is it cancer?"

That's the only illness I can think of that could make someone so weak.

Rowdy chokes on his own laughter. "I wish. I don't think cancer hurts this damn bad."

"So what is it?" I'm learning how to breathe again, how to not inhale air that burns through my lungs. I focus on that instead of his lips that press against my knuckles.

"An auto-immune condition. The docs said I've got Guillain-Barre syndrome."

He told me long ago when we sat underneath the sycamore tree that first night that he'd never been to a doctor.

I get the feeling all the days he went missing in June weren't because of Emmett or his grandma.

"My nervous system is shutting down," he explains before I ask. "Makes my muscles so weak I can barely walk. Sometimes I'm in pain. Other times I'm numb. So I get steroid shots and all this fancy medicine I don't even know the names of. They bruise me like a damn peach."

Something is still bothering me and I have to get to the bottom of it. I need to the hows and whys and the whats and wheres. I need to know everything.

"Carlisle stopped me earlier. Told me I'd get hurt if I didn't mind my business. What did he mean by that?"

Rowdy rolls his eyes at my question. "Pop is so damn dramatic. He probably didn't want you to get hurt by being with me. This sickness ain't easy. I think it takes a toll more on the people around me than my own self."

"Are you dying?" It sounds rude, the way I've said it, but I have to know.

"Shucks, Cottonseed, you trying to get rid of me already?" He laughs when it ain't a laughing matter. When I don't crack a smile, his hands squeeze mine. "I ain't dying. I'll be around as long as you want me."

"I want you," I answer firmly. There's no decisions to make, regardless of what he's got.

"Good." His nose skims the spot just below my ear and I'm trying to convince myself not to flinch at his cold touch.

"What was with the hammer at the barn? I saw you crying and Carlisle had it in his hand. I thought he was beating you."

Rowdy half-smiles at the conclusion I came to in my head. It seems so silly and trivial now. "He was building me something."

I don't like how he's being so vague, evading my question by not giving details. "Something like what?"

Rowdy sighs and glances away as if he's too ashamed to look in my eyes. "I'm getting weaker, Cotton. Every day that passes by I feel myself get sicker. I didn't want to admit it. Maybe that's why I'm so bitter at Pop. He's ready to face reality and I'm trying to hold on to what little hope I've got. He was building a wheelchair in the barn. He was putting one together for when I can't walk anymore. He made me sit in it so he could adjust the seat, but I got so damn frustrated and upset I stormed out."

"You won't be able to walk anymore?"

"Paralysis is common with a sickness like this. It's taking away at me, bit by bit."

I nod, but my mind lingers back to all of the footballs and soccer balls Rowdy had in his room, discarded and covered with dust. "Is that why you don't play sports anymore?"

Rowdy nods, his eyes cast downward. "It's why I can't do a lot anymore. But I'm trying, Cottonseed. I'm going to be strong. I can't lose you over this."

"You won't lose me," I murmur, stroking his arm. "I ain't going nowhere, Rowdy. What could possibly break us apart?"

He once told me that the answer to that question was nothing. But in a split second, we glance out of the window to see Papa and Jacob staring us through the elongated glass.

At the same time, Rowdy's leg jerks and he cries out in agonizing pain.

"Everything," he chokes out.

I never knew how right he was.


	15. Chapter 15: Pageants & Promises

_You readers are just the most cryin'-est bunch I ever met in my life!_

_I love it. Have a great weekend, sweet cotton babies!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: Pageants &amp; Promises<strong>

Being second place isn't good enough.

Though I made it to the regionals, that heathen Lauren Mallory beat me with her itty-bitty bathing suit that could barely qualify as string.

I would have done better in the competition, but I dropped my baton twice because my mind was somewhere else entirely.

On _someone _else.

Ma was still proud of me, and she and AJ and Jessie squeezed me so darn tight they crushed my bouquet of roses. Papa didn't come—he never does—but he wished me luck earlier that morning. That's the best I can ask for, I reckon. He never approached Rowdy and I in the sunroom, but I heard Ma and him talking later that night about Rowdy's condition.

I guess everybody knows now.

Jessie is stealing my roses one by one even though she thinks I'm not paying attention. On the way back to our car, I'm stopped by complete strangers and told congratulations. Jessie replies "thank you", all southerny and sweet and they just eat it up.

They have no idea how rotten she is.

"Where do you want to go, Cotton?" Ma asks after we're all buckled in. We always celebrate after pageant shows by going to the fanciest restaurants in town, but today I'm just not feeling up to it.

"Just home, Ma," I say, trying to keep my eyes open. I'm exhausted.

And I want to see Rowdy.

Ma frowns with concern for me, but sighs and agrees. We've been up since three in the morning, and the only thing I want to do is rest and be with my boy.

By the time we arrive on our road, AJ has downright destroyed my bouquet by placing all the flowers in Jessie's hair. She looks like a complete mess, but she's smiling like a buffoon and acting like the prettiest thing in the world. Just as we're about to pass the Masens' house, Ma turns down their driveway.

"I hope you don't mind, Cotton. Esme is waiting to see you all gussied up. We'll just be here a minute, I promise." Ma apologizes like it's an inconvenience to me, but it's the best news I've heard all day.

It takes ten minutes to shove, push, and pull me out of the car because my dress is so huge. When Ma knocks on the door, I look back and see a trail of glittering crystals in the driveway.

"Oh my goodness!" Esme all but screams at the sight of me and twirls me around and around until I'm dizzy. "Aren't you just the prettiest gosh darn thing I've ever seen? My, oh my."

"She won second place too," Ma brags. "She's traveling to Biloxi next month for the regionals."

"Well I declare, with a dress like that, you should've been queen. Gorgeous, Cotton. You're absolutely gorgeous!" Esme beams and she can't stop touching my plum colored gown.

AJ and Jessie are practically bouncing around, waiting to go play with Jasper and Emmett.

"They're upstairs, girls," Esme points. "Why don't you go up there while I show Renee this baby quilt I'm making?"

The girls have already jetted off and I tune out Ma and Esme's conversation about fabrics and colored spools.

I quietly follow behind my sisters and make a beeline for Rowdy's room. When I enter, he doesn't notice and he's softly snoring.

_I hope he's dreaming of happy things._

_I hope he's dreaming of me._

I try to be quiet and tiptoe beside his bed, but he stirs when I accidently bang against the railing. His eyes flutter open, revealing a pool of mossy green.

"Cottonseed?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I say softly. He looks tired, and I pray he hadn't been up all night for no reason.

"I'm glad you did." He reaches out for me and I attempt to sit next to him, but the silk fabric of my dress just makes me slide off the bed.

He chuckles as he scoots over. "You look like a walking cupcake. What the hell are you wearing?"

"My pageant dress." I love that he doesn't compliment me like everyone else. He's brutally honest, even to a fault.

Rowdy looks over every inch of me, from the curls that fall around my face to the deep plum dress that makes me look like a princess. The crystal belt scratches against his arm as I settle beside him, but he doesn't complain.

"Did you win?" He asks, sitting up and resting against his oak headboard.

"Nope. Blondie with the big boobs beat me by three points."

Rowdy laughs and he sounds like his old self. "See? That's the route you gotta go. Sweet and pretty never win."

"Ain't that the truth," I mumble. I stare at Rowdy so long his eyebrows scrunch together.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see if you're all right."

"Don't you start that," he groans.

"Start what?"

"Asking me how I'm feeling. Asking me if I'm hurting. Asking if I slept the night before. I hate that. Don't start feeling sorry for me. Ain't nobody a victim until you point out that they're weak. So don't do that. Just be normal. Please," he begs, and Rowdy Masen doesn't look like the type to beg for anything.

"Okay, fine. You look like crap, your pillow has drool on it, and you smell like an old man."

_I can be honest too._

He hoots and hollers and wraps his arms around my waist. "That's my girl. Are you here alone?"

"Naw," I answer, sulking. "Ma just wanted to stop by and gossip with Esme. My sisters are with Jasper and Emmett but they'll all be busy for a while."

"Good." It takes Rowdy a minute, but he slowly puts his feet on the floor and makes his way towards the door. He locks it and turns back to me. He's wearing a wife beater and low-slung shorts, but it's his eyes I can't stop staring at.

I help him readjust back onto the bed and I snuggle closer. "None of that nonsense, you cupcake impersonator. Those sparkling things are scratching the hell out of me. Take your dress off."

"W-what?" I stutter, even though I heard every word. Take my clothes off?

In front of a boy?

With Ma downstairs?

And God up above?

Rowdy sighs and leans over, picking up a pack of cigarettes. He lights one slowly and gazes at me. "You ain't scared, are you Cottonseed? I won't try nothing funny, promise. I'll even look the other way."

"Promise?" I ask, debating whether it's the right thing to do.

"Promise." Rowdy makes a big effort to rotate to the side and I sigh.

_Just do it_, I tell myself. _Jump under the covers real quick and he won't see a thing_.

I turn so that I'm facing the opposite way. It takes me a few seconds, but I find the zipper on the side. I have to yank on it a few times, but it eventually unzips.

I glance down in dismay at my undergarments.

_Oh, God. Could I be anymore childish?_

They're white; as white as the godly snow I'm traveling down on my way to hell.

My underwear and strapless bra I had to wear with my dress are as plain as can be.

_Don't look. Please don't look._

It's not as if I own anything, er, inappropriate anyways, but this is the worst.

I take a deep breath and turn around, ready to jump underneath whatever blankets Rowdy owns, and pray he keeps his hands to himself.

He's staring right at me, crushing the butt of his cigarette in an astray.

"Ahh!" I use my hands to cover myself, but it's no use. Rowdy has a cocky grin on his face as I bury myself under his sheets and keep my distance.

"You lied!" I accuse him, slapping him on the shoulder. He winces but I don't feel bad at all. I'm so embarrassed I can barely look at him. "You promised you wouldn't look!"

Rowdy pulls me closer to him, his hands wrapping around my waist.

_This is so wrong. _

_I'm going to get into so much trouble._

"I told you I was a sinner." He smirks and it's everything Heaven and Hell should be. "You're fucking hot, Cottonseed."

_This is so right._

_I don't care anymore._

Rowdy grins and he's nothing but Sunday-sinning, church-cursing trouble. He may be sick, but I get the feeling certain parts of him are not.

It makes me scared.

It makes me want to know for myself.

I bury myself in his arms and he skims his fingertips over my tummy.

I wonder how long we'll keep this secret up, of me and him and our wicked, blasphemous ways.

Rowdy's lips brush against mine and he makes my toes curl. He's being careful not to go too fast, but I wonder what's wrong with me that I want him to.

My heart flutters and my eyelashes follow on accord.

"Can I kiss you?" Rowdy breathes against my mouth. I think I could stay like this the rest of my life.

"We are kissin'," I remind him.

He snickers and it's just a reminder of my innocence. I hate how he talks in circles around me. _Just spit it out already_.

"Not on your lips," he says, pecking me again. "Here."

_Here_?

Here is where his fingers run over the two mounds of my chest. I ain't big at all—flat chested, Rose Charlotte calls me. She would know; she's just as small as I am.

I snuggle deeper, hoping the twist of my body will avert him, but Rowdy's not the type to miss anything. He leans over me, keeping me on my back with firm hands.

I swallow, feeling my heart coming out of my throat. I should say something, tell him I don't know what I'm doing and that I don't want him to kiss me there.

But all I can say is "yes."

Rowdy kisses me other places, too, like my neck. He's calm, but there's a crazed frenzy I recognize only by the rapid exhales of his breath.

He shifts my strapless bra down and I cover my eyes with my forearm.

I only peek when I feel his fingers rub gently over my nipples.

"You're pretty, soft baby Cotton."

I'm practically heaving by now, seeing his head bowed over my chest and his tongue parting through his lips just so. I tense up, and for some reason I think it will be painful.

It's not.

It's warm-happy, running-through-fields-picking-fresh-daises good.

This knot coils in my tummy and I buck my hips forward trying to feel something.

Anything.

Rowdy's eyes flash up to mine and I think I've done something wrong.

_I take it back. Please don't be angry. I'm sorry._

Rowdy smiles and moves his hand down, down, down.

"Can I touch you here?"

I nod, meaning to but not meaning to.

"Just be quiet, okay?"

I don't know what he says that for, so I agree.

When a finger slips inside of my panties, I learn I'm not the only one who's breaking promises today.


	16. Chapter 16: Secrets & Singing

__TY to Cherry and Mia as usual. Don't know how Rowdy would be so rowdy without you! :D__

_Happy Monday cotton babies. Hope you had a fab cupcake-filled weekend!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: Secrets &amp; Singing<strong>

Rowdy is mesmerizing. He's dark-green-hooded-secrets that make me blush. I can't help but glance away. I try to focus on the beige colored walls, but Rowdy's having none of it.

"Love with me," he murmurs, leaning over me and pulling my chin back towards him. I'm flat on my back as he hovers over, one leg in between mine. My fists clutch his rough bed sheets and they are my anchor, the only thing holding me still.

I fight to keep my eyelids open as his fingertip slides between my center, making me jump. "I am," I lie. I can't love _with_ him when he's _in_ me like this. My love is selfish, all consuming feels that works its way up from my toes. He's not the only one who goes numb.

Rowdy kisses my jaw and my head tilts back as he sprinkles kisses all along my neck. I don't think he knows what he's doing to me; how my heart is beating out my chest and how my skin feels like it's on fire. He rubs me in slow, taunting circles. I'm embarrassed when my back arches. Am I supposed to feel like this? This I-could-die-kill-me-now good?

There's an ache in my belly, building and burning. My mouth slacks open as my head falls back on the pillow. I fight the need to yell and scream and moan. Rowdy kisses, bites, and licks my neck. I drag one bare foot up and down his leg, silently begging him to stop.

I silently beg him not to as well.

"Kiss me, Cottonseed." Rowdy is demanding as usual, but it's a request I will always give in to. His kiss is rough, needy, and different as he bites my lower lip. He pulls with his teeth and I grip the sheets tighter, twisting them around my knuckles.

His fingers circle faster and my desperate attempt to breathe is long gone. I feel hot, hot, hot.

"Look at you blooming," Rowdy says huskily. He's wrong. I'm dying. I'm parched, suffocating, and over-heating. I'm bundles of knots and layers of Hell Baptists don't even believe in.

My mouth parts and a guttural sound escapes. Rowdy moves downward and his fingers keep moving as one descends, plunging into me.

I moan blasphemy as he pushes with ease, licking one pert nipple at the same time. My hands shift over to his hair, pulling, tugging, and yanking as he works me with his mouth.

"More," I beg, and it doesn't sound a thing like me. I roll in and out of consciousness as he speeds up his thrusting inside of me. His head moves to my other breast and I feel close to _something. _

I don't know what it is, but I feel like I'm going to explode. Parts of me will scatter all over this room and I won't be able to pick myself up.

"I love you," Rowdy groans between flicking my nipple with his tongue.

My legs stretch outward and my hips rise off of the bed. I am a ball of tightened nerves as Rowdy drives into me faster.

"Oh God, I love you I love you I love you." I can't take breaths between my words. I'm too busy flying, falling, and descending. The knot unravels as I finally burst, his name leaving my lips in breathless moans.

A final whimper escapes and Rowdy kisses me up, up, up. His lips find mine and his fingers are out of my panties, but they don't leave my skin. I feel a trail of wetness up my tummy and then higher above my chest.

It stops when his hand reaches right near his face. He pulls back away from our kiss, slipping his finger in his mouth.

"You're sweet," he murmurs. I'm in shock that he would do such a thing, but he grins and whispers. "Just wait until I taste you down there."

"Please?" I don't know how my thoughts escaped my lips but Rowdy chuckles.

"Next time, Cottonseed." He rolls over and I see a bulge in his shorts. He notices me glancing down, but he pulls the cover over him and kisses my cheek.

"Get dressed," he says, trying to divert my attention. I know I need to. I can hear the squeals of Emmett and Jessie roughhousing in the hall, but I don't care. I want _next_ time to be _this_ time.

I sigh feeling weightless and light, but my feet are as heavy as lead when I scoot them towards the edge of the bed. My gown is in a bundle on his shaggy carpet, but before I stand, I glance back at him.

"Rowdy?"

"Hmm?" He's propped up on his pillow, smoking a cigarette, and he's inhaling harder than usual.

"How did you know how to do that?" I need to know where he learned how to touch and caress like that. Rosedale is hours away from Forks County, but Rowdy's past is even further.

"I didn't," Rowdy answers honestly. "But when you love someone as much as I love you, you learn."

Even though my feet hit the floor, I fall even more.

.

.

.

"I don't want no taters, Ma!" Jessie screams and kicks her chair, pouting and crossing her arms. I hate when she gets like this, throwing tantrums and such.

_Gettin' too old to be acting like a fool_, I think.

"Jessie Beth, you stop that nonsense right now. Do what your mother told you, you hear me?" Papa tells her sternly.

Ma plops down another big ol' spoonful of mashed potatoes right on Jessie's plate and even though she's crying up a storm, she chews slowly between her hiccups and sobs.

AJ tries to be sly and steals a bite here and there just so Jessie doesn't have to eat so much.

"How's your trapping going, Charlie?" Ma asks as I bite into my meatloaf.

"Kickin' my ass, that's how it's going," Papa complains. "I have to keep buying supplies! Two of my rods are broke, my good harpoon is missing, and I've got a whole set of hooks that somebody stuck in a bucket of bait. Them Masen boys been over here lately?"

Ma glances at me from across the table and I put my head down.

"No," Ma fibs right through her teeth. _Thank you, Ma. _I don't know why she's protecting them, but I'm grateful she is.

Rowdy ain't stealing nothing but breaths these days and Jasper and Emmett could care less.

"I'm installing a security system," Papa continues. "Can't trust nobody these days!"

"I'm sure you've just misplaced something. Or maybe those raccoons have been running through again," Ma says. "You know how bad they were last year."

"Yeah, maybe," Papa mutters, but he doesn't believe it for a second.

"When's the dance, Ma?" AJ asks, changing the subject.

"Oh! At the end of this month! I can't wait. Betty Hale and Maggie Weber and I've been thinking of a 50s theme. Lord knows the choir needs more robes. We're inviting folks from all over the state. Should be a grand time!"

I'm excited as can be and even Papa grins.

"A dance?" Papa questions. "I bet Jacob could go with you, Cotton. He'd love something like that."

_I wouldn't. I'd rather get eaten by a gator._

"Why, we ain't had a good shindig in years! You remember how we used to get down, Renee?"

Ma blushes and turns away. "I sure do. It was before all you babies came along."

_Gross. I don't care what they were getting down to and why._

Papa tosses down his napkin and walks into the foyer where we keep an old record player. A minute goes by and then we hear the scratching, sweet sound of Marvin Gaye singing through the house.

_Listen, baby, ain't no mountain high_  
><em>Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough, baby<em>

Papa strolls back in, holding his hand out to Ma. She giggles and takes it, swinging into his arms.

_If you need me, call me, no matter where you are__  
><em>_No matter how far, don't worry, baby__  
><em>_Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry__  
><em>_You don't have to worry_

AJ and Jessie and I clap as Ma and Papa sway right across the kitchen floor. So my sisters and I stand on our chairs, holding up spoons and belt out the lyrics.

_'Cause baby, there ain't no mountain high enough__  
><em>_Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough__  
><em>_To keep me from getting to you, baby_

We laugh and twirl and dance that Saturday night. Papa picks up Jessie to dance with him and Ma, while AJ and I take turns taking the lead.

The meatloaf gets cold, Jessie never does finish her taters, and somewhere in the barn someone steals Papa's bundle of nets.

But it's all right, 'cause we're a family acting like families do. I suppose even Baby Jesus is looking down on us smiling. I know that 'cause Jessie says so, right when the North Star shines into our kitchen window.

So we count our blessings, sing the blues, and we don't have a care in the world.

Until the next day, that is.

Esme has a child come into the world and another that's on his way out.

All those mountains become high, the valleys get too low and that river?

It's wide enough to sink Forks County until there isn't a single soul left.


	17. Chapter 17: Temptation & Trepidation

_Cherry wrote the bestest story in the whole world, Come Home (blueeyedcherry). I demand you to read it. Beautifully written and touching. I don't know how she makes me smile and cry all at once._

_Mia strips on the weekend, FYI._

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DataByteDL-FangirlinGranma! *POPS BALLOONS EVERYWHERE* I'll be writing an outtake for her, so expect a short, cute Saturday update! *muah*_

_Readers- I love you like Rowdy feels._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: Temptation &amp; Trepidation<strong>

"Jessie Beth Gracie, you sit still right now!" I tap her with the comb as I attempt to French braid her hair into pigtails on Sunday morning.

"You're pulling it too tight!" she whines, touching her tender scalp. "I want Ma to do it!"

"Ma's getting ready. Now hush or I'm going to pop you again," I warn her. "AJ!"

I scream my sister's name and she comes running into the bathroom with only her undies and a white slip on. "Get me those bows in the container. The pink ones."

"These?" AJ holds up dark shaded barrettes, but I shake my head.

"No, the light pink ones with the brown polka dots. I need 'em to match her dress."

AJ hands me the hair clips that I snap on to Jessie's curly, braided ends.

"All finished, Jessie," I smile triumphantly. I hold her up to the bathroom mirror above the sink and she smiles.

"I'm pretty!" she squeals.

"Yes you are," I say, kissing her plump cheek. "Now put on your clothes before we're late."

Papa's already downstairs yelling that it's a quarter to ten, so I dash to my room quickly, tossing on my flowered, ruffled dress and green wellies. I get halfway down the stairs before I realize I'm missing my cardigan.

"_You women folk has to cover up," _the Revered always says_. "You can't praise the Lord if you're tempting the Devil from your pew."_

I wasn't trying to tempt the Devil.

Just Rowdy.

.

.

.

Rowdy's as handsome as can be while sitting in church. He links his finger with mine between our bodies and I hope Papa doesn't notice.

"…And the man at the Pool of Bethesda was a disabled man," the Reverend preaches. "The Bible says for 38 years. How many of y'all been disabled for years? Struggling day by day? Feeling the pain of a hard life? You don't need a wheelchair to be handicapped!"

"Amen!"

"Preach it, Pastor!"

"Easy for him to say," Rowdy mutters and I giggle, swatting his arm.

"Jesus told that man to get up and walk!" Reverend Weber bellows with a booming voice and wipes the sweat from his brow. The poor front row is getting soaked. "Get up and walk, he said! How many of y'all are going to walk today?"

"I am, praise baby Jesus!" Jessie yells back.

"That's right, Jessie Swan! See, even the little ones know, you can't stay down. Whatever your circumstance, you keep on keeping on. You fight until you can't fight no more! You pray 'til you can't pray no more! And oh, is the Lord going to come and save you! He saves the wicked, the unrighteous, and the immoral. Don't you lie there, congregation; don't you lie in your sin or your situation! You pray, and just like that man, Jesus will come to you! Can I get an amen, church?"

"Amen!"

"Rose Charlotte, carry us out with a song for the Lord. I get the feeling little Jessie's got a dance in her heart." He smiles and points to my little sister.

It's the only cue that Jessie needs, 'cause once the choir starts singing Jessie starts shouting on the pew, tapping her little foot away.

We stand up clapping and singing and for once, I even hear Esme calling out for God.

I turn to smile at her, but she's doubled over in pain.

"Mama!" Rowdy scoots past his two brothers to help Carlisle hold Esme up.

"Cotton! Get Renee! The baby's coming!" Rowdy yells at me above the music.

I wave my arms to get Ma's attention and she glances at Esme in shock. "Oh dear!"

The next thing I know, Ma has shuffled us all out and we're climbing into cars on the way to the hospital.

I'm excited Rowdy's little brother or sister is on the way, but Jessie just pouts the whole time.

"What's wrong, Jessie?" AJ asks as Papa speeds down the back roads.

"Nothing," Jessie sniffles. "I just hope Miss Esme has a boy."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause if baby Jesus can help the lame man, then that means Esme's baby can help Rowdy get better."

Ma looks back at me and I shrug.

Jessie's much more aware than we give her credit for.

.

.

.

I hate hospitals.

They smell like rubbing alcohol and old people.

Rowdy sits beside me in the waiting room sometime after five, sharing candy while our brothers and sisters have disappeared to who knows where. Papa left for the cafeteria and I think Ma has sneaked into the delivery room.

"What do you think it is?" I ask him, chewing on a green Skittle.

"A boy. Mama can't pop out anything but boys."

"I think it's a girl. I'd bet my striped wellies that's what it is."

"Naw," Rowdy disagrees, shifting in his chair. "It's a boy for sure. But I don't want your wellies when you're wrong."

"Trying to wager with me, huh?" I grin, stealing another green Skittle.

"Yep. Let's bet … a push in the river if you're wrong!"

I wrinkle my nose. He knows how much I hate swimming in that murky water. He's just being mean. "Fine. I bet you a night at bible study that I'm right."

This time it's Rowdy who frowns. "Seriously? Who bets on church?"

"A person with so much to lose and so little to gain. Deal?"

"Deal."

We shake on it, but Rowdy kisses my hand, his green eyes twinkling, just as Ma comes running out waving her hands in the air.

"It's a girl! It's a girl!"

I cheer and Rowdy sulks 'cause he's lost the bet. _Loser._

"Wait a second, where did everyone go?" Ma asks, her excitement dying down.

I shrug, getting up to throw away the candy wrapper. "Somewhere."

"Well go find 'em! Esme wants to tell everybody the name!" She scuttles off, back to Esme's room, her dressy loafers click-clacking on the floor. "Oh, I've got to call the church. Maggie is going to lose her mind!"

I laugh at her screaming down the empty hall about Esme's little angel.

I turn towards Rowdy. "C'mon, let's go find Jasper and the rest. They've got to be around here somewhere."

Rowdy just stares at me, not saying a word.

"Rowdy, c'mon! Emmett's probably broken into all of the soda machines by now," I say, giggling.

Rowdy doesn't move and so I flick his arm. "Quit playing around. We need to go."

He is such a sore loser. Ignoring me all over a stupid bet.

"Rowdy!"

"Rowdy!"

"Rowdy?"

I bend down, putting his face in my hands. "Rowdy? Are you okay?"

He's unresponsive, but his eyes are open, staring blankly at me.

"Rowdy!" I shake him again and again and again.

"Rowdy, wake up! We need to find Jasper and AJ. Rowdy!" Tears fall from my eyes before I can stop them. "Rowdy, wake up!"

I stand up and because I'm not supporting his weight, he begins to slump in his chair.

Oh God, he's dead. He's dead he's dead he's dead.

"Rowdy! WAKE THE FUCK UP!" I scream, kicking his chair. "Get up, please get up! Please, please, please!"

Papa comes around the corner chewing on a sandwich. "Cotton, is that you curs-"

"Papa!" I scream, kneeling over Rowdy's body. "He's dead! Rowdy's dead!"

"Masen?" Papa drops his sandwich, right there in the middle of the floor, and lifts up Rowdy's head. "Shit! Doctor! WE NEED A DOCTOR!"

Papa races down the hall, past several rooms until he reaches the nurses station. I'm guessing no one's there because he turns down a corridor and I no longer see him.

I hold Rowdy's body, rocking him back and forth, sobbing all over his collared shirt. I have never in my life prayed for something so badly as I did right then.

My fingers wrap into his hair as I wait for Papa to come back with some help. It's been less than two minutes, but it feels like a lifetime.

"Cotton?"

God's playing tricks on me, so I ignore him, holding Rowdy so tightly I can barely breathe myself.

"Cotton."

The voice is so clear I can practically hear it next to me.

"Cotton!"

I pull back my arms and Rowdy's staring at me, but he's now blinking.

"Oh my … Rowdy! I thought … I thought…"

I hug him all over again, my ugly sobs now filled with joy.

"What happened to you?" I ask.

He looks like he's in a daze and not quite understanding what's going on. "I…"

Just then, Papa and an entire team of hospital staff come racing down the hall.

"He's fine," I say, wiping my face with the sleeve of my cardigan. "He's fine."

A doctor kneels down in front of Rowdy, flashing a light in his face.

"Can you hear me, son?"

"Yes," Rowdy answers.

"Can you remember what happened?"

"I … uh … I have a baby sister and then … I saw Cotton … and…"

What? A whole lot happened between then. Why doesn't he remember it?

"Looks like you had a seizure. An atonic one perhaps, but I need to look at you more closely. Are you sick? Do these happen frequently?"

"I…" Rowdy's so overwhelmed he can barely speak.

"He's got _Guillain_-_Barré_ syndrome, but I don't think he's ever had a seizure before," I answer for him.

"All right. I'm going to have to admit you and we can run some tests. Sometimes these can happen with your condition, but I just want to be sure. Nurse, can you get me a wheelchair?"

The blonde woman beside him nods, but Rowdy protests. "I'm fine. I can walk. I don't need no wheelchair."

He's stubborn as usual, but at least he doesn't argue over being admitted.

Rowdy grabs the handles of his chair, grasping them tightly. So tight in fact, his knuckles turn shades of white.

He attempts to heave himself up, but he just can't do it.

Rowdy tries three more times before I finally ask, "What's wrong?"

He slumps in his chair, crying like no boy his age ever should.

'Cause while Rowdy's struggling just to stand, a crowd of folks from the church come loudly around the corner, cameras and recorders in hand.

"Oh, I can't wait to see Esme's baby girl," one lady squeals. "She's going to be a precious one, she is!"

"This seizure sure has taken a toll on you," the doctor says sympathetically. "Which doctor was it that diagnosed you with _Guillain_-_Barré_ syndrome?"

Rowdy ignores him and stares at me. He doesn't look like he's in pain, but I see it in his eyes.

"Cotton, I can't feel my legs."

I tremble as I wrap my arms around him, kissing his forehead.

And I can't feel my heart.

They can't help it. They act just like small town folk do, being nosy when it ain't none of their business.

I see the blinking light from one of the deacons' video camera, recording Rowdy in his lowest moment.

Rowdy's secret is out, and for a town like Forks County, it's as bad as sinning on a Sunday.

People don't care about poor folks—never have, never will.

When the poor is sick with some French sounding disease, they're going to accuse him of selling his soul the devil.

But as Papa glares at Rowdy's and my embrace, I know that the sacrifice I've made has come with a price.


	18. Chapter 18: Parts & Pieces

_Cherry thinks I put hearts in blenders. Naw, I just puree 'em and add ice._

_Mia has turned into Dimples from Cadillac and needs an intervention. _

_Readers- Y'all love y'all some Jessie. She's cute, isn't she? :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen: Parts &amp; Pieces<strong>

Harley Gene Masen was supposed to be a boy, through and through.

Carlisle said he won't changing it, Ma said it won't fitting for a girl and Esme told everybody to mind their own damn business.

That's as far as they got into yelling until Papa tells everyone Rowdy's been admitted into the hospital "from one of them shaking fits."

It wasn't even that type of seizure.

Carlisle weeps, Ma cries, and Esme has to hand the red faced baby back to the nurse 'cause she's sobbing so hard.

"He's fine," I say, trying to calm everyone down. "The doctor just wants to run some tests, that's all."

Esme insists she's going down to see him, but the nurse tells her she needs to rest. Ma tries to comfort Esme, so I tell Carlisle I'll walk him down to the second floor.

"One minute, Cotton," Papa says sternly. "We need to talk."

I follow Papa out to the hallway where he crosses his arms, his gator shoes tapping on the pale, tiled floor. I focus on the speckled design instead of looking Papa in the eye.

"I saw you hugging and kissing that Masen boy. How long has it been? How long you been lying to me?"

"I haven't been lying," I snap back, crossing my arms just like him. "We've just been keeping it a secret."

"Not telling is the same thing as fibbing, AnnaBella." _Fiddlesticks_. Now I know Papa is as angry as can be when he calls me by my name. "Do you know how much I've sacrificed for you and your sisters? How hard I work to give you a good life?"

Papa always drawls out his words when he's mad and all I can hear is that his r's turn into slow-hissing w's.

"I'm sorry you've worked so _hawd, _but that's your own business. I ain't got nothing to do with you working overtime or them gators. And they ain't got nothing to do with me and Rowdy! Why can't you just let me be happy?"

"'Cause that boy ain't no good for you, Cotton! He's at the bottom of them waters and folks like him don't float to the top. They struggle their whole damn lives, grabbing other people's floats 'cause they're too damn lazy to swim on their own. I want better for you. I want a boy that will treat you right and give you a life you can be proud of. That Edward is both lazy and sick! Why Jake is a strong, healthy fellow-"

"Stop!" I argue, my voice rising. "I don't want to hear another thing about Jacob Black! I've got a boy who loves me and who I love back. So just stop it, Papa!"

I storm back to Esme's room, trying not to let my voice quiver when I peek through the door. "Carlisle? Rowdy's in room 202."

.

.

.

"Rowdy?"

Carlisle runs to Rowdy's bedside, kissing his son on his forehead and grasping his hand. "You feelin' all right, son? You need anything?"

It's the first time I've seen it for myself, but everything Carlisle has ever done is for his son. From accepting money from the church despite his pride, to giving Rowdy his shots, to building a wheelchair, it's all for his eldest boy. Men folk ain't supposed to hug and kiss other men, but Carlisle don't give a hoot about no mannerisms.

"I'm good, Pop."

But I can tell Rowdy's lying. In fact, he ain't good at all- his spirit is almost as broken as his body. I walk to the right side of the bed and wrap his hand in mine. The IV in his wrist scares me and I'm frightened I'll accidentally pull it out. I don't know what it is about this room, but Rowdy's hand is ice cold. Carlisle notices it too and wraps the blanket tighter around Rowdy's body.

"I'm here, okay Rowdy? I'll spend every minute with you if I have to. No matter what the doctor says, I'm not going anywhere."

Rowdy snatches his hand from mine so quickly I'm shocked he's able to move that fast. I reckon his upper half hasn't been affected.

_Yet._

"I don't need you here, Cotton," Rowdy says, staring out of the window. "I don't need you to see me like this."

"Like what?" I ask innocently. "We knew this might happen, right? Nothing changes. It's the same-"

Rowdy tosses the blanket and thin sheet off of his body, revealing the worn gown the hospital makes all of the patients wear.

"Nothing changes?" he yells. "Nothing changes? Look at me! Look at my fucking legs! I can't feel 'em Cotton! I can't move 'em a single inch! Do you know what that feels like? I'd rather be in pain! I can take the hurting and the tingling and all of the bullshit, but it's the numbness that's killing me! I'd rather die than live like this!"

"No," I whimper, as tears fall from my eyes. "Don't say that! You can beat this! You'll get better, you'll see. Yeah, the doctor's going to come in and say it was just an episode and you'll feel fine in no time and you'll be walking again real soon. I just know it!"

I don't know who I'm trying to convince more-him or myself.

Carlisle gives me a weary sigh. "Cotton, don't."

"It's true!" I protest, grasping back Rowdy's hand. "I know it 'cause you told me you loved me so much it was more than I could see. You told me I give you so much happiness that you forget to breathe. You told me you'd fight for me no matter what and that the sun don't rise until you whisper my name! You told me all of that Rowdy Edward Masen so don't you go taking that away from me!

"I have to," he says quietly. "I have to now before you find out the truth from someone else."

"The truth?"

Rowdy looks at Carlisle who nods his head.

"This isn't my first seizure, Cotton. I'm getting worse."

His words hit me over and over again. The knock me into dark places I can't see and into nightmares I can't wake up from.

"H-how many?" I'm unable to get the question out clearly. My mind is racing faster than my tongue and I'm not sure the latter is going to ever catch up.

"Seven."

"Seven?" It's not that I don't hear him, it's just that I can't believe it. How did he have that many and I not know about it?

"Cotton, maybe not isn't the best time…"

Carlisle is at it again, trying to tell me what's best for us. In some ways, he's worse than Papa.

"_I'd hate for a girl like you to get hurt." _Carlisle's warning came back, haunting me to the core.

He was right.

I was hurting but it wasn't the type of pain Rowdy had. It was gut-wrenching, darkness-closing, I'm-dying-of-heartache pain.

This couldn't be healed.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie, Cotton. I just…kept it a secret."

My own words are a double sword, stabbing me in some sort of karma. I don't believe in karma, exactly, but I believe God makes you pay for your sins.

I couldn't afford mine and not even Baby Jesus could redeem me from this.

"It's okay," I say, nodding and trying to calm down. _Just breathe, Cotton. This isn't about you._ "It's all right. I forgive you. We'll move on. Let's just focus on getting you better. Carlisle built that wheelchair, right? I'll take you wherever you need to go. You won't even need to push yourself. I'll be your legs, Rowdy. I'll be whatever you need."

It's quiet in the room, just me, my begging, and pride that stands in between us all.

Rowdy swallows and I can see the lump travel down his throat.

"If I did that Cotton, then what could I be?"

"My heart," I whisper through my tears. "You'll be my heart and I'll be your legs and together we'll be whole."

"Then we'd waste away, Cottonseed." Rowdy's voice is so low I can barely hear him above the hum of his machine. "We'd be so busy trying to piece ourselves together that neither one of us would smile. I don't have the energy to pretend to be happy."

"I don't have the energy to pretend I'm not."

My words fall on deaf ears as Rowdy reaches out for Carlisle. Carlisle helps roll Rowdy over, facing the small sink on the other side of the room.

"Goodbye, Cotton."

Rowdy is a coward as he allows his father to dismiss me from the room.

"Fuck you, Rowdy!" I scream, my sins washing over and through me. I fumble with the thin chain around my neck and it gets caught in my hair, refusing to be pulled off. I yank hard enough until the links break and I throw the necklace on the bed.

"I hate you! I hate you and I wish I had never met you! I wish you had stayed in Rosedale and never came here! One day, Rowdy, I hope you meet a girl who you loves you as much as I do. I hope she's everything you've ever wished for. I hope she's all funnel cakes-church cursing-water fountain kisses and I hope she breaks your heart into a million and one pieces. You may not be able to move, but you sure as hell don't have a problem walking away!"

If I had listened close enough I would be able to hear the slightest of whimpers coming from Rowdy's bed, but my hatred is pounding drums in my ear.

I steal one last glance at the boy I love and I leave.

I leave my heart and my future and everything that makes me happy in this world.

Ma once told me I was so beautiful all the cotton just a'bloomed when I was born.

But when they're not tended to and left to wither, eventually, they die.

Ma never told me that part.

But at 15 years-old, I learned that lesson the hard way.


	19. Chapter 19: Bikes & Beginnings

_Thanks guys for letting me rest. Wasn't feeling good yesterday, but I sure missed you!_

_Cherry & Mia- I ship you guise. Hard core._

_Remember: There's an outtake tomorrow for my old lady Granma Dee, so check it out. Will post it separately as a new story._

_Have a great weekend, my little cupcakes!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen: Bikes &amp; Beginnings<strong>

Reverend Weber always preaches in church that God has a plan.

I knew it was true when Jessie Grace came a month too early, but she came kicking out with a smile on her face.

I knew it was true when the great flood hit Mississippi and so many folks lost their home, but not us. We survived both the waters and death.

Now, I'm not so sure.

There's no higher plan when your heart is in your throat and it hurts to even breathe.

There's no plan in that.

No damn plan at all.

"Cotton?" Ma knocks on my door twice and then walks in without my welcome. "Oh, baby!"

I try to muffle my sobs in the center of my pillow, but Ma hears them all. She sits on the bed, cradling me in her arms and rocking me back and forth.

"Cotton, sweetie. Look at you." I feel like a child, burrowed in the safety of my mother, weeping tears for a boy who doesn't deserve them. "It's been over a week. Don't you feel any better?"

Her words only make me cry harder. "Better?" I ask, glancing up at her through my tear-streaked cloudy vision. "How am I supposed to feel better? He doesn't want me anymore! He doesn't even care! I love him, Ma! I love him with my whole heart and he doesn't care not a bit!"

I try to bury my head again but Ma won't let me. She hoists me up by my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "Baby, I can't say I'm completely happy you were with Edward behind our backs. Your father and I are disappointed with the secrets you've been hiding."

I glance away, ashamed and not wanting to hear her yelling at me.

"But…" she continues. "I want you to understand something. Sometimes when people suffer, it's not always meant for them."

"What do you mean?" I ask, puzzled.

"What's going on with Edward, his sickness and all, maybe it's not meant for him. Maybe it's for you. Maybe it's supposed to teach you about sacrifice and selflessness and life. Maybe him not walking is supposed to be something greater."

"I'm the reason Rowdy can't walk?" I ask in an offended voice.

"No, no, sweetie. I'm saying you've always had it easy. You've never wanted for anything. Anything you've ever asked for, you've gotten. For once, God is giving you the opportunity to learn patience. And prayer.'

"I always pray, Ma."

"For someone besides yourself, Cotton." Ma smiles, brushing back my hair. "Edward pushed you away because he's having trouble accepting his condition. Instead of wondering how he hurt you, perhaps you can wonder how you can make _him _not hurt. He's suffering, baby. Sacrifice what you want for what he wants. And right now, maybe he just needs a friend."

"How am I supposed to be his friend when I've got all this love bottled up inside of me?"

"You'll find a way, honey. I did." Ma winks at me and stands up. "Trust me, honey. Before there's love, there's friendship. You two acted just like teenagers do, falling hard and falling fast. Get to know each other first. If you would have done that, you would have known Edward would react the way he did."

I nod, wiping away my tears as Ma walks towards the door.

"Hey Ma?"

"Yes Cotton?"

"Were you and Papa friends first? I mean, before you fell in love?"

Ma laughs and throws her head back.

"Lord, no! I couldn't stand your father when we first met. I was talking about Billy Black."

Ma laughs again and leaves me in a state of bewilderment.

And disgust.

_Ew._

Maybe Ma is right.

I can be there for Rowdy and just be his friend.

But I secretly wonder how long I can pretend before that bottle eventually explodes.

.

.

.

As soon as breakfast is over the next morning, I decide to ride my bike all the way to the hospital. I tell AJ and Jessie they aren't going and even though they beg and fuss, I refuse. It's just something I need to do. I pick a bunch of flowers from the backyard and stick them inside the basket. I push on those pedals faster than I ever have before. It's a long ways away when you're not in the car, and I have to travel by long dirt roads and through town. I wave to the butcher along the way and to Miss Tanya, who's fixing the outside sign on her studio.

By the time I arrive, I'm sweating bullets and I take a moment to wipe my face with the sleeve of the sweater I've pulled off. I park my bike near the entrance against the brick wall and try to navigate the faded signs posts in the corridors. Forks County Hospital isn't too large and I quickly find room 202, despite coming from a different location a week and a half earlier.

I hear laughter through the closed door and I hesitate on walking in. Eventually, I take a deep breath and enter.

No one sees me at first, because the dividing curtain is closed, but I notice everything. Rowdy is holding little Harley Gene with the biggest smile on his face. Esme is sitting beside him as he coos over her. He kisses her little cheek and her little hands and her little feet.

It's the sweetest thing and the joy she brings to his face is unrecognizable. Harley Gene gurgles and it causes Rowdy to laugh again.

"Look at her, Ma. She's a tiny thing. Not like Emmett. Remember when I dropped him?"

Esme giggles. "I sure do, Son. That boy was bigger than a cow. All those cherry pies I kept eating."

I hate to interrupt a moment like this so I turn, twisting on my heels. Esme hears me and calls out.

"Cotton?"

How did she-? I glance down and answer my own question.

_Damn rain boots._

I peek around the curtain innocently and give a small wave. "Hey. I was just dropping by, but I can…"

"No, no, no. You stay," Esme says, standing up. "It's time for Harley's feeding anyway. I've got to get back to the house. Rowdy, your daddy will be back this evening, all right honey?"

"Okay, Mama."

Esme kisses Rowdy on the cheeks and reaches out for Harley. Rowdy kisses his baby sister and reluctantly hands her back. Esme holds Harley and manages to pick up her bag at the same time. She walks by me and kisses my forehead.

"Good to see you, Cotton. Rowdy was 'bout in tears 'cause you didn't come sooner!" She winks at Rowdy, who frowns, and then shuts the door behind her.

"Hey," I say first.

"Hey."

Rowdy looks uncomfortable by my presence and I debate leaving. I should have called; it wasn't right of me to barge in here like this.

He looks like he's lost a few pounds, but it's probably from the hospital food. They do their best to kill their patients, one by one.

People can't survive on jell-o alone.

Well, Jessie could, but that's a whole 'nother story.

"How do you feel?" I ask cautiously.

"Like shit," he answers honestly. "They keep feeding me all this different medicine to see if anything works, but none of it does. I should be going home tomorrow."

"Oh!" I say, my voice rising with excitement. "They're letting you out?"

"Um, no. I just … Pop can't pay anymore … and with the new baby and all…" He turns several shades of red and I feel just awful. I want to kick myself for being so simple sometimes. "The doc said there's this procedure. I can't remember the name of it, but they take the plasma out of blood cells and then put the blood cells back in. He said it works for some people with my condition."

"Are you going to do it?" I ask curiously.

"I can't," he answers, glancing away.

Money, yet again. How is that sick folks are supposed to pay for all this expensive care when they're sick and can't work? It doesn't make any sense. Whatever happened to helping folks just because?

"Oh." I carefully walk to the side of the bed and sit down. Rowdy and I sit in silence. I don't know why we're acting like this. It's never been like this, uncomfortable and awkward.

I fumble with my fingers and study the design on my wellies when Rowdy lifts up a corner of his pillow. "You forgot something last time."

He tosses the glittering gold chain in the air and I catch it just in time. The broken links are fixed and look like new.

I wish I could say the same for him.

"I didn't forget it," I say, balling it up in my fist. "You said you didn't want me here."

"I lied, Cotton. I was in shock." Rowdy takes a deep breath and reaches out for my hand. I take his in mine, trying not to shiver at his cold skin. "You ever knew when something bad was going to happen? And no matter how much you prayed and wished and hoped, there was nothing you could do to stop it?"

I nod, trying to understand what he's talking about. "My sickness is like that. The doc told us the worst had already happened and though I might be paralyzed, it rarely occurs. Well, Cotton, he was wrong. It did get worse. It did progress. I've got the worst of it. I can't breathe sometimes, I get seizures, and my arms are starting to tingle now. All this nerve medication just makes me tired and dizzy. It's rare they keep telling me. Only five percent of patients, they say. How did I get so lucky, huh? Why me?"

I squeeze his hand, as if giving him some of my strength is going to make it better. "'Cause you're special, Rowdy. I knew it the first day I met you. Maybe you're not sick for yourself. Maybe you're sick for other people."

I try to explain it the way Ma told me, but it's not coming out quite the same.

"What I'm trying to say is, think about it for a second. Your pop lost his job and couldn't help you anymore. So you moved and Carlisle got that job with my papa. And meeting you in church was the best day of my life."

"So I have to suffer just to make you happy?"

"Er, n-no, wait, that's not-" I stutter as Rowdy smiles.

"Then it's worth it." Rowdy's weak hand tries to squeeze mine back, and even though it's slight, I feel it down to my bones. "Cotton, I need you to understand something. I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed of not walking and of not having money to get better. I'm ashamed you're so damn sweet and you have to put up with me. I'm ashamed of not being the kind of boy your daddy wants you to be with. It's weighing on me. I wish I wasn't like this. I'm trapped in my own body and I can't get out. Do you understand?"

I do.

As upset as I've been with him this week, I think I'm starting to get it.

"We can't just start off where we stopped at, can we?"

Rowdy shakes his head and I look down.

This is it. This is how he officially ends it and how I go home with yet another broken heart.

I'm running out of organs here.

"We can't Cottonseed, but that's the thing about love. You get to choose your own beginnings, even new ones. And today, you're mine."


	20. Chapter 20: Concoctions & Compassion

_Cherry, Mia, and I are ready for turkey. Gobble, gobble._

_Thanks for checking out Granma Dee's birthday one-shot. You ppl are amazing._

_Readers- First person to make me gravy-covered cupcakes gets a shout-out! _

_(See what happens when you don't wake up at 7 am?) lol_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty: Concoctions &amp; Compassion<strong>

The next day, it's time for Rowdy to go home.

I make sure I'm at the hospital as early as can be, before AJ hogs the bathroom and before Jessie starts wailing that she wants pancakes and not eggs.

Carlisle and the nurse are helping Rowdy put on his normal clothes, so Esme and I waste time in the waiting room, flipping through magazines.

"My boy sure is sweet on you," Esme says to break the silence.

I blush, my cheeks turning shades of red that love doesn't even come in. "I reckon. He just has a funny way of showing it."

"Too much pride," Esme replies. "Men are like that. They don't want any help when they need it the most. And he needs you, Cotton. You can get through to him. Get him talking about his feelings. When he's upset, he just won't speak to us. But he's different with you."

_Not exactly_, I want to say. I'd felt the wrath of his silence and it hurt more than anything I'd ever experienced before.

"'Sides," Esme continues. "It's going to be real hard for him coming home. We set up the downstairs so he has somewhere to sleep and can get back and forth, but I don't think he's going to like it too much."

"I suppose not." I didn't think about that. Rowdy can't go up and down stairs, he can't take walks outside, and he can't even use the restroom properly without someone helping him. He's free to go home, but he isn't free at all.

When I pray tonight, I'm going to ask God how come only the innocents are imprisoned? It seems like Rowdy hasn't done anything wrong, but yet he's locked up in his own body.

"Esme? Rowdy said the doctors could take the plasma out of his blood cells. What did he mean by that?"

"Plasmapheresis," she answers. "It means the plasma is the liquid part of the blood. For his syndrome, they want to remove the cells that are attacking his nerves. But it's expensive and we can't do it right now. Carlisle's going to work some extra hours and as soon I'm able, I'm going to find a job."

Esme shouldn't have to work; she's got Harley Gene to take care of, and Carlisle is already working sun up to sun down. There has to be something else they can do.

"Did you ask the church? I'm sure Reverend Weber would help."

"He did," Esme says, embarrassed. "They gave us most of that money from the fundraiser and at the time, it paid for all of Rowdy's medication. Now we've got these hospital bills, plus all those tests they ran…"

_It wasn't enough_, she wanted to say. It would never be enough. Rowdy would go on, getting sicker and sicker, and they would always play catch up. Only the rich could afford all these treatments.

Someone rich like…

A wide grin spreads across my face as I concoct a plan. Maybe the church couldn't afford to get Rowdy better, but there was one man in Mississippi who could.

I just happen to call him Papa.

.

.

.

Carlisle tosses my bike into the back of his rusty truck and the four of us squeeze into the cab like a can of sardines. Rowdy and I don't mind it though. He grins all the way home, talking excitingly about all of the real food he's going to eat. Esme joins in, saying she cooked him a big ol' pot of gumbo, with shrimp the boys caught themselves.

But life has a mission and its number one goal is to shred Rowdy to pieces.

"What the hell?" Carlisle curses, looking at the disturbing mass of vehicles and people that linger on his property.

They're there in droves, so many that cars and trucks and TV vans are parked all down our road. Carlisle has to squeeze through, his truck narrowly missing the ditch. Rowdy's face falls as he glances around in horror, possibly wondering how so many people could fit into his yard.

"Mama, what are they here for? I don't want to be interviewed!" He's like a scared child, and I don't blame him. I'm beyond infuriated that grown adults would ever think this was okay. Aren't there privacy rights? Didn't they think Rowdy already had a lot to cope with?

"Keep your head down, Son." Carlisle tells him. Esme fumbles behind her seat, finding a blanket that must have been used for hunting on cold, early mornings. She covers Rowdy with it, prepared to protect her child at all costs as Carlisle parks.

Carlisle and Esme open the side doors and the cameramen and reporters come running. Others are there too—members of the community, business owners, and all the church folk I've grown up with. A female news anchor is just off to the side being filmed.

"Forks County, we're live here at the Masen home where 16-year-old Edward 'Rowdy' Masen, has finally come home. According to witnesses who visited him more than a week ago, Edward has a rare autoimmune condition. The illness, Guillain-Barré syndrome, has left him paralyzed from the waist down. They also confirm he suffers from seizures, which they were able to see firsthand. For a small community where everyone knows everyone, this is extremely shocking. We've spoken to doctors who are not treating young Edward who can confirm that the disease is debilitating and death is possible…"

Esme and I struggle to help Carlisle lift Rowdy into his arms as church members step forward, snatching the microphone away.

"_I tell ya, that boy is as sick as can be! Arriving in church, attending functions, and spreading his germs! How much longer 'fore the rest of us catch it? I've got a family to protect!"_

"_I've known his mother Esme since they day they moved here. Been keeping secrets, they have! What else don't we know about them?"_

"_I think Child Protection Services should come and take the boy! Just look at him! Child is living in filth and those parents don't have the right mind or the money to care for him. He needs a good home, with folks that care and ain't got a hundred other mouths to feed!"_

We stumble through the crowd and when we arrive at the door, Jasper lets us in with people following directly behind us. Jasper tells me to hurry and tries to coax me inside, but I can't. I refuse to let the Masen name be tainted like this.

I tell him to shut the door, but he leaves it slightly open as I twist on my heels.

"My name is Annabella Rain Cotton Swan. But ere'body here just calls me Cotton…" Standing on the porch, I try to be strong even though I'm shaking from nerves. "I just wanted to say that Rowdy Masen and the Masen family are good people. Carlisle works himself to the bone trying to take care of his family. Esme had a baby and she still manages to care for her son. They may not have much, but they've got a lot more than the likes of you folks!

"You come around here with your judgments and lies and cameras, talking about stuff you don't know anything about! It's ignorant! How would you feel if this was your child? Your parent? Your brother? Your son? Show some compassion! He's sick with something he can't help! It's not contagious, it's a condition that's come upon him, but you know what? It ain't for him!

"My Ma once told me that when bad things happen to good people it's so that other folks can learn from it. So today, I hope you learn sympathy. I hope you learn love, respect, and the ability to give to others who don't have. And above all, I hope you learn kindness. Rowdy can't walk right now, but he knows how to be kind. And that's more than I can say for the lot of you folks. So I want you to leave! Don't you come back until the words you say do more good than evil!"

I begin to turn away from the shocked, open-mouth crowd, but I've got just one more thing to get off my chest.

"That fella there was right," I tell them, pointing to the man in overalls. "You think you're going to catch something, but I think you've already got it. It's starting at your toes, going up your legs, and right into your heart…"

The crowd looks side to side, wondering what disease has possibly befallen them.

"You keep it up—judging others with your ill will and hostility—and one day it's going to knock you right off of your feet. Rowdy may be unable to walk, but at least he isn't crippled with hatred. I pray to sweet Baby Jesus that you change your ways, Forks County. Otherwise, your bitterness is going to paralyze you all."


	21. Chapter 21: Boasting & Bravery

_Cherry says there's no rest for the wicked. I think that makes me, her, and Mia vampires..._

_TY to golden2779, missalishacullen, & DataByteDL-FangirlinGranma for the gravy covered cupcakes! *spreads it all over your bewbies*_

_(if I missed you, pls send scathing PM to management team)_

_The rest of you were too busy cheering for Cotton, lol!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One: Boasting &amp; Bravery<strong>

"…_Otherwise, your bitterness is going to paralyze you all!"_

Jessie stands on the chair, mocking my every movement as I pronounce justice for all of Forks County across the screen.

The crowd whoops and hollers and Ma's just as proud as can be. After Esme and the rest of the Masens saw me giving everybody a good verbal lashing on their behalf, she called Mama. Mama got all loud, screaming about how her baby's going to be on the five o'clock news, and she phoned everybody over just to see me shine.

It's our third time watching it after Ma recorded it, but it doesn't stop people from congratulating me.

"That's my girl," Rowdy winks, looking up at me from his wheelchair.

"That's right! Give 'em hell, Swan!" Billy says, giving me a loud congratulating pat on the back.

"You looked so pretty, Cotton!" Rose Charlotte replies, squeezing me in a hug.

They go 'round and 'round, praising me for standing up for the Masens. Everybody's here—the Masens, of course, the Blacks, the Hales, the Webers, and even Miss Sue—all just to tell me what a good Baptist I was being. Even though Angela, Bree, and Victoria are as jealous as a pig eatin' a bacon sandwich, they smile in my face for now.

Papa gets the strangest look on his face and storms from the room. I want to run after him, but Jake sweeps me off of my feet, twirling me in circles.

"That was mighty brave of you, defending the Masens like that." Even though I don't want him touching me, I'm too high on cloud nine to care.

"Aww, it won't nothing! I was just doing what was right," I boast proudly. "I was fixin' to say a few none kind words, but I figure Ma wouldn't like me cursing too much."

"Damn right, baby!" Ma yells across the living room, and everyone starts laughing. Even Reverend Weber can't stop from chuckling.

Ma announces she's going to cook a big supper in my honor and the women scatter to help her out. Emmett starts a game of chase and the second he taps Jacob, him and the rest of the kids go running about.

Rowdy sits looking forlorn in his wheelchair, and I hope I haven't embarrassed him.

"Hey, you aren't mad, are you?"

"Shucks no!" Rowdy grins and grabs my hand, leading me to sit on his lap. "You're kind of hot when you're flying off the handle like that!"

I giggle and wrap my arms around him. "Stop it, you! Why do you look so upset then?"

"I just didn't like Jacob touching you like that. I may be paralyzed, but I'm still a man. I think he thinks he can take advantage of you now 'cause I can't defend myself."

"Ain't nothing to defend!" I reply, angrily. "I'm yours. I wouldn't be with Jacob Black if he was the last boy on Earth!"

"Good," Rowdy murmurs. Even though the house is full of people, Rowdy presses his lips against mine. He makes me feel some kind of wonderful and warm when we're kissing like this. I feel the foreverness of love and every moment in between.

I want to prolong our kiss, but the second I hear heavy footsteps down the hall, I jump up.

"Come over tonight, will you?" Rowdy whispers.

I nod. I could never say no. I would never want to.

"Okay," I breathe. He grins and I give him another hug. "I have to go find Papa. Will you be all right here?"

Rowdy notices the worry sweeping across my face. I'd hate for the Weber girls to attack when I'm not in the room.

"Anybody who messes with me, I'll run 'em over!"

"Using your wheelchair as a weapon?" I tease. "I do declare, Mr. Masen, I believe that is a capital offense."

"You run this town now, Cotton. Just give me 30 to life," he winks.

"Always," I promise and I run away just as he swats my bottom.

.

.

.

It takes me a few minutes to find Papa. I find him sulking in his office, surrounded by gator heads mounted on the wall. Aside from the sunroom it's one of my favorite places to be. Papa used to sit us on his lap and twirl us around and around in his leather chair until we felt dizzy.

Only now I'm too grown, and the only feeling between us these days is hostility.

"Papa?" I come in without knocking and shut the door partway as he smokes on his cigar. "You know you're not supposed to be smoking with the Reverend in the house. Ma's gonna get you!"

Papa half-smiles, putting it out. "I'll just tell 'em she's the one that bought 'em for me."

I grin and sit on the other side of his desk, glancing at all of the fancy awards posted on the wall. He's won gator hunter champion every year and every plaque is trimmed with fine gold.

"Cotton?"

"Yes, Papa?"

"Did I ever tell you how me and your ma met?"

I shake my head. I'd heard stories, of course, but they tended to change depending on the time and season.

"I was 16 years old and my family had moved from Jackson, Mississippi," he begins.

"Jackson?" I interrupt. "The city?"

"Yep. I seem like a country boy, don't I?"

I nod enthusiastically. I could never imagine Papa living in the city. He's as wild as the swamps and as rough as the rivers. The city and Papa don't even seem to go in the same sentence.

"Anywho, I was born in Jackson, where my own Pop was sheriff. He was a tough man, real hard like. My brother—your uncle Peter—and I could never do right by him. No matter what we did, it was never good enough. Anyway, when I was 16, Pop moved us all here when the city elected a new sheriff. He couldn't handle losing out to anybody, so we packed up and left. When I came here, the first thing I saw was your mother."

I tried to imagine a young Papa, but the mustache makes it difficult. I giggle to myself and bite my lip to hold back my laughter.

"She was in my class and the prettiest thing I ever saw. But the second I arrived, everyone told me, she's off limits. _That's Billy's girl_, they'd say. They were right, of course, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I'd bring her flowers, so many she started thinking I was being obnoxious. She told me to leave her be and that she was already courted to Billy."

"So how did y'all get together?" I ask, interrupting again.

"I'm getting to that part. So one day, it was blistering cold. Too cold for Mississippi, even in the winter. Little snowflakes started to fall and because of the rain, the roads were slick with ice. So a whole gang of us were walking back from the schoolhouse, playing around when we saw a fight happening right there in the street."

"Oh no! Who was it?" I question, leaning forward in my chair.

"You know, I don't even remember. But I recall Billy egging them on. He was laughing and telling them to hook left and hook right. All I noticed was your pretty mother's face, shocked that he wasn't stopping the fight. So I stepped in, caught a shiner right my eye, but she's been mine ever since."

"All 'cause you stopped a fight?" I ask, miraculously.

"'Cause I stood up for something bigger than myself. See back then, African Americans weren't looked at too kindly in the South. But my folks always taught me a person's character mattered more than the color of someone's skin. I couldn't handle seeing that youngin' getting battered like he was. So, I did the right thing. Your ma saw that and said she fell head over heels."

"That was real brave of you, Papa." I say in awe.

"I reckon. But the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You're a lot like me in some ways, Cotton. You're real strong and brave, too. And you're pretty, just like your mother, but you got this fight inside of you. I don't want you to ever lose that."

I smile brightly. "I won't."

"Good." Papa digs into his desk drawer and pulls out a small booklet, scribbling in it real fast. I don't know what he's writing until he slides a blue, thin sheet of paper across the desk.

"What's this?" I don't even give Papa a chance to answer before I start reading.

It's a check.

Oh my, it's a check! It's a check written out to the Masens with numbers followed by a lot of zeros. If I could shout like Jessie and scream Baby Jesus right now, I would.

"Papa! You're giving them money? You're going to fix Rowdy! Oh, Papa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I scramble from my seat, jumping up and running into his arms. "You have no idea how much this is going to help!"

"I think I just might," Papa says, hugging me tightly. "When I was your age, not even the moon and the stars could separate me from your mother. I'm not going to do that to you, Cotton. You're my baby girl and if that Masen boy is who you want to be with, I'm not going to stand in your way."

"You mean it?" I smile with glee, feeling happiness swirl all over me.

"I do. Just … er…" Papa looks at the ground awkwardly. "No '_lessons_' unless someone's home, got it?"

He emphasizes the word lessons, and he and I both know what he means.

"Got it!" I squeal, waving the check in the air and running off to tell Rowdy the good news.

"Cotton?"

Papa stops me at the doorway, and I turn around. "Yes, Papa?"

"I'm proud of you, but your struggle is going to be a lot harder than some scrap in the street. Don't give up on that Masen boy just 'cause it's cold outside, you understand what I'm saying?"

Papa didn't mean the cold, literally. I think he meant not to give up just 'cause things would get hard.

So I smile and run down the hall, screaming Rowdy's name over and over again.

I step on the Reverend's foot, knock over Miss Sue's pie, and trip right into Emmett's fat, porky tummy.

But I was young and I never quite understood what I thought I knew.

I learned quickly though that night, when all of us were seated and saying grace.

Papa had given me that money to give to Rowdy, and I thought the world had changed.

It changed all right, just not in the way I expected.


	22. Chapter 22: Benevolence & Bricks

_Cherry dubs herself my sister. Considering all the humping, it's incest at its finest._

_If there's ever a Zombie apocalypse, Mia's to blame._

_Readers: I'm off work the rest of this week, so morning chapters will still come, just not at the crack of dawn. :D_

_I love you guise like Jessie loves naked Barbies._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two: Benevolence &amp; Bricks<strong>

"Y'all got a tender heart, helping my boy out like this."

Esme's a dam about to burst with tears and Rowdy is stone-faced quiet and in shock.

"I don't want y'all to think we're some charity case," Carlisle states proudly. "Charlie, I swear, I'll work overtime and catch as many-"

Papa holds a hand up to interrupt him. "You hush that nonsense. Cotton said that there was a lot of folks in town that needed to learn kindness … I'm one of them. This money here is a gift. I don't want no payback or to see you work any harder than you already do. Just take it. And if anything else comes up, don't you dare hesitate to pick up a phone."

Carlisle goes in for a hug but Rowdy beats him to it, rolling forward and wrapping his arms around my papa's legs. Carlisle and Esme join in, and the next thing I know, Emmett runs in from outside and sees all the hugging. He doesn't know what's going on, but he can't help his chubby self and embraces my father too.

I reckon he just needs to be a part of something bigger than himself.

Papa's as uncomfortable as can be, all wrapped up in a Masen sandwich.

But he's smiling.

He's patting with his large bear-like hands, grinning until he laughs. The rest of us join in, cackling away.

Ma wipes away a tear even though she thinks I don't notice.

"Thank you, Mr. Swan! I'm so... and you are..." Rowdy trails off and his green eyes are wet with gratefulness. Papa gave him more than money.

He gave him life.

"No problem, Son," Papa replies. "You just make sure you're good to my daughter, you hear me?"

"Yessir." Rowdy grins and reaches to squeeze my hand.

We're so busy being happy that we don't notice the expressions on Billy and Jacob's faces. If I had looked—glanced just the slightest to the left—I would've seen disappointment and betrayal.

But I didn't.

Mrs. Hale says it's time for supper, and the whole lot of folks walks into the dining room. The table if full of food and every smell hits my nostrils. My mouth waters at the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens cooked with lards of fatback, boiled cabbage, buttered cornbread, and a whole array of pies and sweets. We hold each other's hands as Reverend Weber starts the prayer.

"Dear Lord, we've got a lot to be thankful for today. For Cotton, who stood up in the midst of evil to proclaim that goodness can overcome. For Charlie, whose heart is as big as Christ's love, may you bless him ten fold. For Edward, may you heal him from the bottom of his toes to the top of his head. For Forks County…"

Ma always said those who didn't pray in the morning always had a long grace to say. It seems like our own Pastor is one of them. So Ma clears her throat rudely and I giggle.

"…So I ask you to bless this food," the Reverend ends. "May it be used to nourish our-"

Turns out, Reverend Weber doesn't need Ma's help. A loud crash rings out in the dining room and it causes us all to hit the floor.

I scream as loudly as I can, but I'm not the only one. The women in the room cry out, shrieking and squealing and all poor Rowdy can do is duck and cover his head. Jessie yells out, "Baby Jesus!" and for once AJ doesn't stop her.

"It's all right, Jessie," AJ coos, hugging our youngest sister. "I've got you."

"Where's the children?" Mrs. Weber calls out.

"We're here," Jasper answers. "We're all over here."

A few are missing, but I'm too terrified to see who it is.

"Stay down," Papa orders everyone. "Stay down and don't get up!"

Rose Charlotte is crying. Fat tears roll down her face and I scoot over on my hands and knees, hugging her tightly. "It's okay, Rose."

"It's a gun," she wails. "Someone shot at us. I think you angered 'em, Cotton. Now they're out for revenge!"

I'm horrified to think I'm the cause of this. I didn't want folks retaliating against my family and loved ones just 'cause I told 'em the truth. It seems like all my honesty comes with a price.

Papa stands up, holding an object in his hand.

"What is it, Charlie?" Ma asks, still hunched over.

"It's a brick! Someone's thrown a brick through my house!"

Papa drops the dirty reddish block on the floor and takes off running as the rest of us stand up and follow.

"Get back here!" Papa's made it out the front door and across the yard to where our barn is. "I said, get back here. Get out and show your face!"

The crowd pours out onto the porch, whispering in hushed tones.

"Who is it?"

"Who could it be?"

"You think it's one of them angry town folks?"

Papa disappears behind the barn as Rowdy holds my hand. "You all right, Cotton?"

I'm trembling, still shaking in fear, but I'm fine—and alive. That's what matters. All I can do is nod.

"How dare you!" Papa's voice bellows out as he tugs and pulls on a person. They struggle, but Papa jerks real hard and they come stumbling out into our view.

"Jake?" asks Ma.

But Papa's not through. He coaxes out the rest of 'em, and staggering behind him are three girls as guilty as can be: Angela, Bree, and Victoria.

The Reverend and his wife gasp. Billy's face turns mighty red and Ma shakes her head.

"How could they? Why would they do this?" Maggie questions in shock. I stay on the front porch with Rowdy but the rest of 'em go pouring out into the yard.

"I invite you into my home and you pay me back by throwing bricks through my window? Why I oughta…" Papa trails off before he says something he'll regret.

"Now, now," Ma says, waving her hands. "Everyone just calm down. Jacob? Girls? Why would you do this?"

Jake breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling. "'Cause of you!"

He points directly at me and I glance around, as if he could possibly be talking about someone else. "Me?"

"I've liked you since we were young'uns, Bella!" Jacob wipes his sweaty face with a dirty hand. The grime from the brick is now soiled across his face. "You ain't never pay me no mind and now you're with him? Declaring your love all over national television and you don't give a shit about how I feel!"

_It was local cable_, I want to say. However, now is not the time or the place to point out specifics.

I watch Rowdy swallow a lump in his throat and I know he somehow blames himself. I won't let him. So I grasp his hand. It's my own quiet way of showing him my affection. Jake never stood a chance even before Rowdy came along.

"Watch your mouth, boy," Papa warns. "Cotton's made her choice and I support her. You're just going to have to get over it!"

"Jake made us do it!" Angela cries. "He made us help him with the brick and with the rifle in the bush and with hanging the overalls…"

Bree and Victoria warn her to be quiet, but the damage is already done.

"You've been at it this whole time?" Papa takes turns looking them all in the eyes. "You see, Renee? I told you it won't no damn raccoon!"

"That's it, girls!" Maggie Weber shoos them to the side. "I've had it up to here with your tomfoolery! You're making us all look bad! Apologize to the Swans and get in the car! You're going home and you'll be lucky if you see sunlight the rest of the summer!"

"Sorry." They all apologize one by one, but they're not sorry at all, just regretful they've been caught. Bree smirks at me on the way to their vehicle, and I stick my tongue out at her. At least I won't have to see them for a couple of months.

"Jake, I'm disappointed in you. You should know better. I've been good to you!"

Billy steps between them and pulls Jake to the side. "Let's go, Son."

Papa looks at Billy incredulously. "Ain't you going to say nothing to your boy?"

"He's right, Charlie. That daughter of yours has been leading him on. Serves you right. We had a plan. Get our kids married and you ruined it all with those Masens!"

Papa balls his fists up tightly to avoid hitting something.

Or _someone_.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" Papa accuses him. "You don't look surprised at all."

When Billy doesn't say anything, Papa explodes. "You ain't changed a bit, Billy. After all of these years, you're still the same, bitter man. Get off of my property! We're done, Billy! I don't want to ever see you or Jacob again! You're both fired!"

"Fuck you, Charlie!" Billy practically pushes Jake towards their van. "Let's go, Jake. They always thought they were better than us … You're a fool, Charlie Swan! A damn fool!"

We watch in horror as they climb into their vehicle and spin dust all over the yard with their tires.

"My, oh, my!" Ma shakes her head in dismay. "I just can't believe it!"

"It's a doggone shame," Mrs. Hale agrees.

Papa storms in the house and we let him be. He needs a chance to cool off because even though Billy betrayed him, he still lost his best friend.

"Come on, everyone," Ma shoos us into the house. "Excitement's over. Time to eat before the food gets cold."

"Boy, that was something, wasn't it?" Rowdy tries to hold back his laughter, but practically spits as he holds his stomach.

"What are you laughing at? None of this is funny!" I fume.

"I think it is," Rowdy exclaims, pushing himself back into the house. "You got all of these folks riled up today, Cottonseed. Charlie's lost his '_bud_' Billy and Jacob is '_blooming_' mad…"

"Har, har," I say sarcastically. "Enough with the cotton puns, they're getting old."

"Okay, okay. You're right." Rowdy holds up his hands in surrender.

"But even so, I'm just '_tilling_' it like it is…"

Rowdy bursts into laughter, I smack him on the shoulder, and Jessie screams that she doesn't want any taters.

Cotton jokes and brick bombs aside, it's been a good day.


	23. Chapter 23: Taters & Threads

_**HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! **I am so thankful for all you! We hit a big # yesterday *glances in awe at review count* and I'm beyond tears right now. _

_To Cherry and Mia, this story wouldn't be what it is without your red ink and snarky comments, so TY!_

_Readers- I loves you so much. One of these days, I'm going to make you love me back!_

_*turkey cupcakes all around*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three: Taters &amp; Threads<strong>

"Go to sleep, Jessie."

I'm supposed to meet Rowdy at midnight, but it's already past ten and AJ and Jessie are still not in bed.

"It's my turn to pray," Jessie whines. Once Jessie's made up her mind about something, there's no changing it. Besides, I don't have time for one of her hissy fits.

I want to stuff her pink footed pajamas right down her wailing, little throat.

"Fine," I say in a huff. "C'mon. You too, AJ."

"Yeah, you too, AJ," Jessie says, mocking me.

The three of us get on our knees and prop our elbows up on the comforter. "Well, go ahead, Jessie. Quit stalling!"

"I am!" she remarks. "Don't rush me. I'm making sure Baby Jesus is awake."

_Oh, for Heaven's sake._

"Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for all the blessings you've given us. Thank you for making Papa rich so he can help Rowdy so Emmett isn't sad. If Rowdy dies then Emmett will cry, and I won't have a friend anymore…"

"Really?" I interrupt, opening one eye. "You're praying for Rowdy to live so you can play with Emmett? That's selfish, Jessie!"

"Says the person who prays for wellies," Alice Jo mutters.

"Shush! I'm still talking!" Jessie pinches me on the arm and then clasps her chubby hands back together. "And thank you for Miss Sue, who hid the taters from Ma so I wouldn't have to eat them. I'm real thankful for that, Baby Jesus."

"And Jasper," adds AJ. "Pray for Jasper."

"We're not praying for Jasper," I tell her. "You're too young to be thinking about boys, AJ."

"You can't tell her not to pray for someone," Jessie says in shock. "That's bass-family."

"_Blasphemy_," corrects AJ. "And yes it is. Cotton's just jealous of what Jasper and I have."

"Jealous?" I stare at my younger sister. "Why would I be jealous? Jasper's got a mouth like a horse. Neigh!"

I start making sounds like a horse, Jessie cries that Baby Jesus can't hear her, and AJ reaches for my pillow to hit me with.

Ma comes running in to see what all of the commotion is. "Girls! Girls! I can hear you all the way down the hall! What are y'all doing?"

We all freeze in our positons. I'm stuck in a gallop pose, AJ is holding a pillow in a kung-fu stance, and Jessie is in a screaming fit about Jesus sending back taters to eat us all.

Jessie pouts and crosses her arms. "They won't let me pray, Ma!"

"Cotton started it!" AJ accuses, pointing at me.

"I just want to feed the boy some hay!" I respond, laughing.

Ma shakes her head. "Enough. The three of y'all are a hot mess. Drop the pillow, Alice Jo Summer."

AJ whacks me one good time and lets the pillow fall to the floor.

"How about I pray for you?" Ma motions for us to get on our knees beside her. "God, I pray for my three girls. I ask that you watch over them and protect them. Give them the wisdom to know all they've got in this world is each other. Let them love one another as much as you love them. I want to thank you for Cotton and her heart of gold. I thank for you for AJ, my darling middle child who is special and dear to me. Lastly, I thank you for Jessie. Even though she doesn't like my potatoes, I love her just the same. Amen and amen."

"Amen," we say, giggling.

Ma takes turns tucking us in and kissing our foreheads. "G'nite girls."

We say goodnight and just as Ma leaves and turns off the light, Jessie stops her. "Ma?"

"Yes?"

"You know how you always tell us everything happens for a reason? I think Baby Jesus sent us the Masens so we could have friends."

"Why, that's a beautiful thing to say, honey." Ma smiles at her sweetly.

"Yep." Jessie yawns and snuggles into her blanket. "He gave me Emmett to eat all the taters so I wouldn't have to."

Ma rolls her eyes and this time, all three of us yell.

"Go to sleep, Jessie!"

.

.

.

"You're late."

Rowdy smirks at me from under the dim light next to his makeshift bed that's been converted from their dining room. Esme and Carlisle did their best to make it feel like his old bedroom, and all of his footballs are lined up on a shelf.

I quietly shut the window, wincing at the squeaking sound it makes. I don't want to wake Harley Gene up—or anyone else for that matter. "By eight minutes. Don't hold it against me."

Rowdy lifts up his comforter and I take off my boots, propping them against the wall. Sliding into bed beside him, I immediately cuddle underneath his arm.

"I didn't think you were coming," he whispers, stroking my hair.

Neither did I. It took forever for Jessie to fall asleep, and even then I was nervous to leave. Once she stopped muttering in her sleep about melted butter and sour cream, I ran through the night as fast as I could.

I'm pretty sure God frowns on young girls sneaking out to see boys, but I couldn't find a scripture about it so my conscience is clear.

"I told you I'd be here. You're such a worry wart!" I tease. Rowdy tries to adjust his body, but he can't. I sit up and fix his pillow, pulling him up as hard as I can without hurting him.

"Thanks," he says, somewhat embarrassed.

"Anytime." I don't want him to be ashamed. I'd do anything for him. One of these days, he's going to realize it; he's going to know he's the reason my tummy does flip-flops and that he's the cause of the goose bumps that trail up my arm.

I curl back into my favorite position, the lace of my pale yellow sundress tickling my thighs. Rowdy rubs little circles around my shoulder and my thoughts go round and round at the same time.

I love our little moments like this, when we're free to be us and escape. There's none of the drama or loudness that comes from having so many kin. I grin to myself, relishing the moment as Rowdy whispers in my ear.

"What are you smiling about?" he asks softly.

_Everything._

_Us. _

_You._

I turn my body to the side so that I'm facing toward him. He outlines my face with the tips of his fingers. I shiver even though he's as warm as the summer sun. "I'm happy I'm here with you."

I'm honest about my love. I'd never lie to him regardless, but it's not about telling the truth due to religion. It's about an unending devotion that's as strong as his weakness.

"Cottonseed?"

I'm too busy on the high of his hands caressing my skin. "Hmm?"

"Promise me something," he says breathlessly.

I don't need to ask what. I just do. "Okay."

"Promise me that one of these days you're going to marry me."

My chest tightens, and though I know he doesn't mean _right now_ his words send happy trembles all through me. He means he wants to be with me forever. At 15, I'm too young to say yes. At 15, I'm too love-struck to say no.

"I promise."

Rowdy grins and he's got that sleeping-in-late, first-swim-of-the-summer, warm-clothes-from-the-dryer smile on his face. He kisses me with an open mouth. It should be sloppy, but it's not. It's falling-leaping-flying and I'm doing everything to hold my grounding.

His tongue traces my bottom lip, and I feel vibrations in the pit of my belly. He's so fragile with me and yet he's the one that's on the verge of breaking.

Rowdy's hand moves down my back, tickling the skin just above my dress. He compels me to move and I do so slowly, lifting my leg over him and straddling his waist.

_We're going too far._

_We're not going far enough._

I can't stop kissing him and he lifts my dress higher, inch by inch until it settles just so on my lower back.

"Am I hurting you?" I breathe out.

"No," he says roughly, pulling me back to him. I don't know how he does it, turning my brain to mush until all I can see, think, and feel is him.

Rowdy presses my hips into him, coaxing me to grind. I don't know what I'm doing, but he seems to like it.

That familiar ache-burn is back in my center, only this time it's hurting so bad I want to cry. I want him, like_really _want him, in ways the Bible says I shouldn't. His flannel pajama bottoms rub against my ankle and I need air.

Some energy in the universe tells my lungs I require oxygen, but my lips refuse to move from his. Finally, Rowdy pulls back first. "I'm sorry, Cotton. I'm getting you all worked up and I can't."

He can't? Can't what?

I frown, my heart thumping rapidly at the thought of him not wanting me. He's doing it again, breaking parts of my soul because they're all I have left. He took the rest the day I met him.

"I _can't_," he repeats, emphasizing the last word. "I mean … I literally can't do_ anything_."

He literally can't do wh-?

Oh.

_Ohhhh._

The shock that crosses my face is exactly what he's been dreading. He's as red as a beet and I feel awful to my core.

"No! It's okay," I say quickly. "Here. I'll just move-"

Rowdy stops me, grabbing my thigh. "Please don't," he begs. "Let me try, okay? I need this. I need you."

I nod and he worships my lips like a Baptist worships their Bible. He's greedier this time, pulling, tugging, and yanking me until I don't know whose air belongs to whom.

I crave him just as much as he craves me, and my hips move back and forth on a bulge that should be there but isn't.

"Harder," he groans, digging into my back. His begging only makes me moan, and I do as he asks. The knot in my stomach ravels tighter and tighter, each thread threatening to break.

He may not feel anything, but I do. I feel things I shouldn't and I feel things I want more of.

"Fuck, Cotton," Rowdy growls into my ear. "Don't stop, baby. Don't stop. I'm getting there."

His dirty words exhilarate me, making my toes curl. His hands have no path; they ravage my back, my hair, and down my back again.

"Baby…" Rowdy pleads in whispers I hear and in ones I don't. "I can feel your pussy rubbing on my cock. D-don't st-stop … I'm…"

He begs, but I'm the one taking.

I'm a sinner and I'm a thief.

And I rob him of everything he's got.


	24. Chapter 24: Wonders & Willpower

_I hope you all had a fabulous holiday weekend! Welcome back! _

_*drags you all out of bed, kicking and screaming*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four: Wonders &amp; Willpower<strong>

I'm scared.

I'm frightened that I've walked into this house knowing exactly who I am.

I'm absolutely terrified I won't recognize myself when I leave.

"Cotton," Rowdy whispers roughly. "Touch me."

I already am. Every inch of my body that's not covered by my dress and wet undies is pressed against his skin. It's too hot in here, but it's not the temperature of Mississippi that makes it sweltering. The heat we've created makes us both sweat and Rowdy licks the moisture from my upper lip.

"I want you bad," Rowdy says. "You have to touch me."

It's no longer a statement; it's an undeniable request, the kind made when no options are left. He leans up slightly and I raise his plain t-shirt, pulling until it's over his head. He jerks on the drawstring of his plaid pajama bottoms and I scoot back slightly until they're down.

I gasp and my hand trembles, as if I'm the one who suffers from seizures. I've never seen a boy like this before, up close and as real as can be.

I don't know anything about anything, but I've felt the hardness of Rowdy before, that one time in my bedroom. But he's not like that now, even though he wants to be. His fingers clasp the end of my dress and he lifts the ends until the fabric is in a puddle on the floor.

I feel bare, with no bra to protect me. I feel simple and not enough. I'm not like those Weber girls, well-endowed with a chest that sticks out even under their Sunday dresses.

I'm flat and plain.

Rowdy doesn't care. He calls me beautiful and whispers the words until the night air carries them away. His palms caress me and the pads of his thumbs brush over my nipples.

I swallow and I can feel the hairs along my temple stick to my face. Rowdy grasps my hands, wrapping them around him.

"Your hands are on my cock, baby." I _know_. It makes me so nervous to touch him like this.

"Move 'em up and down, like this." He shows me how dirty things can become beautiful and how dirty words sound like hymns. He's my gospel, and I read him better than I read my scriptures.

I stroke him and Rowdy's moss green eyes pierce my world as he stares at me. His skin is hot, hot, hot, and it's a wonder he's not burning alive.

"I can't … fuckin' hell!" Rowdy groans and his fist pounds the bed in frustration.

_He can't feel anything_, he wants to say. We've gotten this far in our relationship—we've finally gotten to a place where it's happening—and he can't feel a single thing.

I've seen Rowdy cry before, but the wetness in his eyes is out of pure defeat.

Rowdy pushes my hands away and if he could, he would roll over. He would tell me to leave and he would give up.

I won't let him.

He closes his eyes, blocking out this moment as if it doesn't exist. I scoot down his legs and lean forward, kissing just below his belly button.

He doesn't react, doesn't sense me moving. He doesn't feel it when I kiss his hairs _down there, _or when I lift him up with one of my hands. He doesn't respond when I press my lips against the bare skin, or when I put him in my mouth. I use one of my hands to strum up his body, over his belly button and up towards his chest.

Rowdy's eyes fly open, and the sight of me tasting him makes him curse. "Fuck, Cotton."

He groans and his fingers knot into my hair as he guides my mouth up and down. He's still soft in my mouth, but I keep licking and sucking.

I have no idea what I'm doing, but an instinct takes over and I want to do it. I want him to feel as good as he makes me feel. I want him to fly like I fly and fall as I do.

"Harder," he says. I'm going slow, trying to build momentum, but I do as he asks, moving my mouth down to the base and pulling roughly back up.

When I try to use my hand, my pinky gets caught in one of his curls.

"Ow!" he half-yells.

Ow?

_Ow!_

"You felt that? Rowdy, you felt that!" I keep my voice low but it's an excited muffle.

"I … I…" Rowdy looks confused so I pull on another hair. "Shit! I feel it! I feel it!"

I want to make sure, so this time I jerk one out.

It's just like picking flowers out of the ground. _Pluck, pluck, pluck._

"Will you stop that?" he hisses, but he's grinning so widely I don't think he cares.

I put my mouth on him again, watching his eyes, but he doesn't respond. I suck really hard this time and he says blasphemous words. His leg jerks underneath me and it's the first thing in his lower body he's felt in weeks.

The first time I met Rowdy, I called him dirty. This time, it's me; the things I'm doing can't be undone. This type of filthy sin can't be washed away.

_I don't want them to._

Rowdy's hips buck underneath me and he groans as he hardens in my mouth. The sounds of my sucking fill the air until Rowdy pushes me away. "What's wrong?"

My heart pounds in my chest and I wonder what I've done to make him want me to stop.

"Nothing," he pants. "I just want all of you."

I grip his shoulders and he pulls me upward, shimmying my panties down along the way. We're skin against skin, a pounding throb against my heated center. Rowdy takes my soul to places it should never go. He doesn't care that my lips were just on him as he attacks me with kisses, his tongue wrapping around mine.

His teeth drag down my jaw and across my neck. He's delicate and rough, gentle and wildly needy. Rowdy puts his hand between us, grabbing himself and rubbing between my folds.

Inside, I'm cursing words no Baptist should ever even think.

"Do you feel my cock in your pussy, baby?"

I swallow, too consumed to say anything. Doesn't he realize he's breaking me? Doesn't he feel the desperation coming off of me in waves?

I'm not ready for this. I–I can't.

Rowdy notices my apprehension. "I won't hurt you, Cottonseed. Trust me. We ain't doing that here, not now. I promise."

I choke out the word "okay" because that's all I can manage. His fingers dig into the flesh on my hips as he moves me directly on top of him. My back arches into a curve and he rocks me back and forth on him. In the dim light, wetness glistens on his skin.

He's not even all the way in me and yet I'm full.

He pulls me towards him, until I hover and we breathe each other's air. He won't let me break eye contact. He holds me steady with love that doesn't descend and adoration that won't fall.

My breasts rub against his chest as he bites my bottom lip. "I was depressed, baby. They told me I couldn't walk. But you're making me move."

He angles his hips and thrusts against me. Rowdy clutches my bottom, both of my cheeks filling his large hands. "They said my nerves were damaged. You're making me tremble."

It's overwhelming, pressure-building, needle-piercing agony. My voice catches in my throat, caught between saying nothing and screaming into the night. I glide back and forth, balancing between Heaven and Hell.

_I choose the latter._

"They said I'd be reduced to nothin'…" His southern accent is broken with drifted confessions and shattering admissions. I whimper as he pull-pushes me faster, pressing until I no longer remember my name.

"I don't believe 'em, baby…"An undeniable pleasure rips through me and I fight to hold my cries inward. Rowdy squeezes his eyelids shut as he groans, joining me in a place where fire consumes us both. I can't breathe, yet I moan and I shake. Rowdy's voice falters and he blinks as if his vision is blurred.

I'm blinded too, but only because of him.

"'Cause with you … I feel everything."

.

.

.

He cleans us both with his abandoned shirt and then reaches for a cigarette. He lights it up as I sit next to him, knotting my hair into a messy bun. "Don't leave."

I struggle to put my clothes back on in the dim light. "I'm not."

On the outside, Rowdy has a smart mouth and a too-cool-for-school aura about him. On the inside, he's insecure, waiting for me to abandon him at a moment's notice.

The smoke lingers in the air as I scoot beside him, pulling the blanket over the top of me. I shift and when my knee jabs Rowdy's thigh, he doesn't say anything.

He doesn't even know it.

I sigh. The universe likes giving me hope and then ripping it away from me again. I wonder how much more I will be able to take before my willpower is gone too.

"Rowdy?"

"Hmm?" He absentmindedly tickles my back, creating swirling patterns that make me shiver all over.

"You said in the hospital you didn't know why you were the one sick. That out of all the people in the world, why do you have to be the one to suffer? Do you still ask yourself that?"

I need to know if he's struggling and balling up resentment on the inside. I need to know if it's going to come pouring out when I least expect it, when the night isn't dark and all this lust isn't sparking between us.

"Naw." Rowdy shakes his head and gazes into my eyes like I'm his sunshine on a rainy day. "See, I figure it like this: God don't want me moving for a reason. It won't be forever, but I reckon He stopped some of my muscles so another one could be stronger."

"Another one?" I question. I don't understand what he's talking about.

"My heart, Cottonseed."

Rowdy leans over and tucks a curl behind my ear. "I can't walk, baby, but that's not important. God told me He'd carry me. I won't meant to do nothin' else but love you."


	25. Chapter 25: Storybooks & Stories

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Storybooks & Stories**

In church, the atmosphere is filled with tension. My family and I get dirty looks the second we pile into the pew beside the Masens. I sit on the end so I can be next to Rowdy in his wheelchair.

"Don't pay them no mind, Cotton," Papa says, leaning across my sisters. "Half of them folks that were on television were church members and now they're angry you told the truth. People don't like hearing the ugly parts about themselves."

He's right. I feel like the only smiles we receive are from the Reverend and his wife Maggie. Rose Charlotte gives me a tiny wave from the choir stand. Usually service opens with song, but for some reason, Reverend Weber is standing at the pulpit.

"Congregation, I've got some good news to share with you. One of our own, Edward Masen, is starting his treatment tomorrow. From what Esme shared with me, he'll be admitted into the hospital to begin the plasma exchange process. By the grace of God, blessings are coming for that family, amen?"

Only a few scattered amens are repeated throughout the church, and Reverend Weber frowns. He turns around, whispering a few words to Deacon Biers and handing him his Bible. "Choir, you may sit down. I think church is going to go a little different today."

Everyone whispers as the puzzled choir members take their seats.

"Cotton Swan, come to the front please."

_Er, no. _

I think I'm okay right here.

Rowdy laughs at me underneath his breath and Ma gives me with a threatening look that says I better get my behind up there or she's going to make me.

I clear my throat, standing up on shaky feet. I'm not Catholic, but I feel like saying a couple of Hail Marys and making crosses on my chest like they do.

Reverend Weber steps down from the pulpit and stands up front with me, putting his heavy hand on my shoulder. "Church, we've got a lot of ill-spirited hatred running through the pews this morning. You know who you are. I ain't one to condemn or judge; I believe you've already done that yourselves. But this here young lady gave y'all a word that she felt in her heart. You can flip through that Bible all you want, but the living and breathing truth is right here."

"Speak it, Pastor," Miss Sue shouts out.

"Cotton, you're a strong young lady. Not a lot of folks would have done what you did. But I'm giving you the opportunity to say anything else you need to say."

Reverend Weber hands me the microphone and I accept it with trembling fingers as I look out to the crowd. These people hate me now. I don't want to be hated. I don't want the Masens to be hated. I just want everyone to get along.

I glance back at Rose Charlotte, who nods her head to encourage me. I say the only thing that comes to my mind.

"I love you."

The church members look side to side and several of them cock their heads as if they didn't hear me.

"Say it again, Cotton," Reverend prompts me. "I don't think these Baptists are listening from their pedestals."

I repeat myself, only louder, "I love you."

And that's how it starts. Mrs. Hale stands up, walks to the front and gives me a hug. Jessie can't help herself so she runs too, squeezing me tightly around the waist. Even the man in the overalls who claimed Rowdy could spread his condition takes a hold of his wheelchair and rolls him to the front. They all embrace me and each other until there's not a filled seat in the church. Only the Weber girls stand off to the side, glaring with jealousy.

Rose Charlotte breaks out into song and the church sings and claps. Reverend Weber wipes the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, and I feel love and God all over the place.

We end up singing three songs until the pastor tells us we can all go back to our seats.

Papa kisses me on the forehead and everything's different now. People can't stop hugging and all of the bitterness has seems to disappear. A few members even hug the Masens, and they whisper to Rowdy that they'll pray for him.

"You see church? That's what God is all about; he's about love and forgiveness, kindness and compassion. I don't even have to preach today. Miss Cotton's done said it all. So thank you for teaching others how to be understanding. Why when Christ hung Himself on the cross and died for our sins-"

Suddenly there's a tearful, agonizing cry that sweeps through the church. It takes me a minute to realize it's coming from Jessie.

"Shhh," Ma says, trying to calm her down. "Hush Jessie. Why are you crying for?"

The Reverend stops speaking and everyone turns around to see what the matter is.

"BABY JESUS IS DEAD? YOU KILLED MY BABY JESUS?"

_Oh lord._

Jessie's little chubby finger points accusingly at the pastor.

"Little Jessie, Jesus was a grown man at the time of his death," he explains. "But there's hope!"

Jessie looks up with wide eyes and desperation. "There is?"

Reverend Weber smiles. "Of course. Jesus may have died on earth, but He rose again and He lives in your heart!"

It just makes Jessie wail louder and run from her seat, hollering at everyone.

"YOU KILLED MY BABY JESUS! MURDERERS!" Jessie runs back and forth, her layered dress floating up behind her. "What have you done? This ain't love! Oh my heart. My little heart!"

Ma runs to the middle of the aisle, trying to catch her, but Jessie backs away. "This is your fault, Ma! You made me eat taters and now Baby Jesus is dead! He's dead!"

Jessie falls to the floor dramatically, kicking and screaming and clutching her chest as if she's dying from a heart attack. Harley Gene wakes up and starts crying.

Jasper snickers, Esme whacks him on the arm, and Papa shakes his head from embarrassment.

We depart church that day with Jessie still sniffling and refusing to speak.

But the hatred and hostility is gone, as is everyone's pride.

The only thing left on the fifth pew was a children's storybook Bible and one lone naked Barbie doll.

.

.

.

"Aren't you nervous?"

Rowdy takes my palm, kissing and licking each individual line as if they were made for him. I sit on his lap in the sunroom, while the rest of our folks are scattered throughout the house. His tongue tickles my hand and sends chills up and down my spine.

"Naw," he answers honestly. "I'm finally going to get better."

Esme explained the process while we were all in the living room. Rowdy's first round of therapy will be inpatient for a week while they monitor his progress. Afterwards, depending on how it goes and if the process works, he can just go to the hospital for sessions. It only takes less than 2 hours a day, while they hook up several tubes that transfer his plasma. The worst part, she warns, isn't the treatments, but the side effects of feeling sick.

Secretly, I wonder if it'll be successful. I'd hate for him to have all this optimism pulled right from underneath his feet.

Rowdy takes his time kissing my hand, kissing downward until his lips are pressed against my wrist. "Will you be there with me?"

I don't know why he asks these things. He acts as if it's even a choice.

"Why would I not be?" I question.

He shrugs, finally dropping my hand. "I reckon I'm just waiting for the moment you decide it'll all be too much for you."

"You're fretting over matters that ain't ever going to happen. I'll be there," I promise.

He smiles that crooked grin of his and butterflies float all through my belly. "All right."

Rowdy kisses my cheek just as Jessie walks in, her chubby cheeks flushed and her eyes red from all of her fussing. I stand up from Rowdy's lap and walk towards her, kneeling down on the floor. I grasp her tiny hands in mine. "What's wrong now, Jessie?"

She starts a new stream of tears and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "J-Jasper said that J-Jesus w-won't even real, so I-I shouldn't even be cryin' t-t-that He ain't a b-baby anymore…"

I glance back at Rowdy, who frowns at his younger sibling's behavior. Jasper should know better. He knows how sensitive Jessie can be.

"Jessie, come here." Rowdy reaches his arms out from his wheelchair and I let go of Jessie's hands. She walks right over to him and using every bit of strength he has, he lifts her into his lap. "Can I tell you a story?"

Jessie loves stories, so she nods enthusiastically and peers up at him with innocent, wet eyes.

"There was once a little girl who lived with her father. The mother died long ago when she was born, so it was always just the little girl and her daddy. The girl loved her father very much. They'd do everything together, like ride bikes until the sun went down, or go fishin' in the creek. When that girl got to be around your age, she became very sick."

"Like you?" Jessie asks.

Rowdy grins. "Sort of. But hers was worse. She had a heart condition and she had to take medicine every day so she would feel better. Every morning, she would forget and her daddy would ask, 'Did you take your pills?' She'd shake her head no, smile, and run to take her medicine."

"Her told her that every day?"

"Yep. So eventually, that little girl grew up and went off to college. She received a sad phone call early in the morning and she had to hop on a plane as fast as she could. When she was on the plane, she was crying so hard she could barely breathe. A stewardess came over to her and said, 'Ma'am, did you take your medicine?' The girl looked up at her in shock. 'I have a heart condition and I take pills to make me better. How did you know?' The stewardess shrugged. "A man in the back of the plane told me to come remind you. He said he was your father.' The girl begin weeping even harder."

Jessie gets a puzzled look on her face. "Why was she crying?"

"I was just getting to that," Rowdy continues. "So the stewardess asks, 'Ma'am, what's the matter?'. The girl wipes her tears and looks at the stewardess. She says, 'My father died last night. I'm on my way home to prepare for the funeral'. With shaking hands, the girl digs into her purse and takes her medicine."

Jessie's bottom lip quivers. "Wow. How did the daddy do that if he was dead?"

Rowdy smooths down the loose strands of Jessie's pigtails. "He just did. Love doesn't end just 'cause someone dies. It goes on forever and ever. Jesus is like that, Jessie. He loves us all. And it doesn't matter if He's a baby Jesus or a man Jesus. He loves you and takes care of you, even though He ain't living anymore."

Jessie wraps her arms around Rowdy and he kisses her cheek. "Thanks Rowdy. I'm glad you're alive, and not just 'cause of Emmett."

Rowdy appears confused as I laugh, wiping away a tear.

Jessie scoots off of his lap and skips towards the doorway. She glances back momentarily. "Rowdy? You said that Baby Jesus loves everybody. How do you know He loves you if you're so poor and sick?"

Jessie speaks with the brutal honesty that comes from being a child. She's not being rude, she's just trying to figure out how the world works. But Rowdy isn't the least bit offended.

"'Cause He gave me your sister." Rowdy winks and leans forward to whisper. "And besides, when you're sick, you don't have to eat gross things like potatoes."

Jessie spends the rest of the day screaming to everyone that Baby Jesus loves her so much, He gave her a "heart edition" and that's why she can't eat any more taters.

* * *

><p><em>AN Credit: Rowdy's stewardess story (though edited) originally comes from Chicken Soup for the Soul. Yeah, I read other stuff too, ya know..._


	26. Chapter 26: Fear & Faith

_I don't know who I love more- Cherry/Mia or all of you readers._

_I can't decide, so here's a tub of icing. I'll let y'all battle it out! (Random scream from background: "Show the bewbies!")_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Six: Fear &amp; Faith<strong>

"I'm leaving my football and baseball collection to Jasper. Tell him not to scruff 'em up and that they're in prime condition."

"Uh huh."

"Oh, and I got a stash of candy under my mattress. Give it to Emmett, but only one piece a day until they're all gone. Say to him, 'Rowdy left these for you beyond the grave.' He'll savor 'em more."

"Is that all?"

Rowdy taps his chin and I swear if he could write, he'd scribble up pages and pages for a eulogy.

"Tell Harley Gene boys are bad and to stay away from 'em."

"Rowdy," I sigh. "She's only a couple of weeks old."

"They start early," he tells me dramatically. "That nine month old baby at church was winking at her yesterday."

I'm pretty sure that poor baby had an eye infection, but okay.

I shake my head at his nonsense. "It's only two tubes. One in your arm and one in your foot. You're frettin' over nothing."

Rowdy clutches my arm in panic. "What if I bleed to death? Scoop up my blood, will ya? Keep it in a jar and every summer on this exact date, sprinkle it into the river. My memory will live on forever."

_But we won't_, I want to say. I'm pretty sure that's where our water comes from.

I kiss my boy's cheek and fluff his pillow on the black leather medical chair. "You'll be fine. I'll be here the whole time. Are you sure you don't want me to call Esme and Carlisle? They'll come if you want them here."

Rowdy shakes his head. "No, Mama and Pop have enough to deal with. They don't need to see this. They said they'll be by later."

Rowdy's hospital room that he'll be staying in is on the third floor, but for now we're on the first level in a small monitoring room. All this fancy machinery sitting next to him scares him out of his mind.

He told me yesterday it didn't.

_Liar, liar._

We both turn our heads when we hear footsteps down the hall.

"She's coming," Rowdy whispers with fright in his eyes.

"Who?" I ask.

"The Grim Reaper…"

I try my best not to laugh, but he's making it impossible. He clutches a handful of hair, stressed out as can be. The nurse walks into the room with a smile on her face. "Edward Masen? My name's Emily and I'll be in charge of your plasma exchange therapy this week. We like to call it PLEX around here for short. Anyways, I'm sure the doctor explained everything to you earlier, but do you have any questions?"

"What's that ball there for?" he questions, pointing to the small steel table beside him. "Is that to gag me when I start choking? I throw up easily."

Nurse Emily puts her hand to her mouth and giggles quietly. "No, it's not to gag you. You have to squeeze it during the process."

"For two whole hours?" I ask in shock.

"It stops the blood from congealing." Nurse Emily looks at our confused expressions and clarifies. "Clotting."

Rowdy takes a couple of deep breaths and Nurse Emily begins the procedure. She puts a blood pressure cuff around his arm and Rowdy winces at the sound of the Velcro. "Okay, I'm going to put the needles in. There may be some discomfort, but just sit still okay?"

"I can't exactly run away," Rowdy retorts. I give him the stink eye for being so rude and he looks away. She taps his left arm several times and sticks him with a long needle. Rowdy squeezes his eyes shut as she connects and twists on a long tube. Lastly, she tapes down the needle with medical tape.

"You did well, Edward," Nurse Emily says, patting his arm. "I'm going to do your right foot next and then I'll be all done."

She does just that and Rowdy flinches and grimaces the whole time, even though he can't feel anything down there. _So melodramatic_.

After she adjust the lines, she props both of his arms over pillows and hands him the yellow squish ball. "This machine is called a cell separator. It's very loud, but just take deep breaths and remember to keep squeezing the ball. I'll come check on you frequently. There's a red call button right here if you need anything."

I move slightly so she can tap a few buttons on the screen and start the machine. She's right, it is noisy, but soothing too. It means Rowdy's on his way to getting healthy. Nurse Emily finally leaves and Rowdy shifts in his seat.

"What do you want to do while we wait?" I pull out a few books and magazines that I can read to him to pass the time.

Rowdy smirks, and it's the only sign of a smile I've seen since we arrived.

"I can think of a few things…"

If I could hit him right now, I would. "You're so … so…"

"Dirty?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah. That." I bite my lip to avoid smiling. "I'm not doing anything with you here. Whatever happened to the whole dying bit from a few minutes ago?"

"I have a lot to live for," he remarks, winking at me. "Are you sure you don't want to? It'll pass the time."

"I'm not sucking your … you-know-what!" I blush and duck my head. He makes me squirm and feel all jittery inside.

"Say it, Cotton. Cock." He teases me and I feel stupidly innocent. How I can do things but not say them is beyond me.

"I ain't saying that, Rowdy." I open a magazine, but the pictures and words blur together. He knows what he's doing and he loves every second of it.

"Cock. Cock. Cock." He says it so many times that he bursts into laughter. "Cockity-cock. Cooo-ooock."

"You're an ass."

I gasp and my hand flies to my mouth.

Rowdy's head leans back, his lips wide open and his teeth a'showin' all through his laughing fit. "I knew you had a mouth on you, girl. That's my Cottonseed!"

I can't punch him directly, but I flick his hand. "You hush! You're making me say bad things."

"Tell me you liked sucking my cock and I'll leave you alone. Promise." His eyes twinkle, full of fibs and mischief.

"No."

"I'm dying, hooked up to all of these tubes, squeezing this damn ball, and you can't even tell me the last words I want to hear before I die? Shame on you." Rowdy shakes his head, pouting as if I'm taking away a final wish.

"You're not dying."

"I've got a twenty-five percent chance of living, Cotton. The docs say I could perish any day now."

_W-what?_ When did the doctor say this? Where was I? How come I don't know these things?

So I swallow my pride and ask for forgiveness as I admit the truth. "Okay … I, um, I loved sucking your cock."

Rowdy clicks his tongue. "Damn, that was hot baby. If I could, I'd fuck you right now."

"ROWDY!"

He laughs as I throw down my magazine in a huff. Crossing my arms, I glare at him. "The doctor never said you were dying, did he?"

"You're so gullible."

This time, I really do hit him.

.

.

.

By the time the nurse wheels Rowdy upstairs and back into his bed, he's exhausted and drained. His arm has a huge bruise on it and he complains his hand is hurting him from squeezing the ball repeatedly.

Rowdy has to sit through the sessions two more times this week and then they'll release him. Nurse Emily said they just want to monitor him throughout the next couple of days and make sure he's not experiencing any adverse symptoms.

Carlisle and Esme stop by, spending time with their son and talking to the doctor. Ma calls to make sure I'm alright and asks when I'm coming home. Esme lies and says she's spending the night, just so I can stay. We all eat gross hospital food and aimlessly watch random TV channels. Rowdy asks where Harley Gene is and Esme tells him Jasper's watching her. He frowns and I know he misses his little sister.

After Carlisle and Esme leave, Rowdy reaches out his weak arms. "Come lie with me."

I glance towards the door in worry. "Ain't the nurses gonna say something?"

"Fuck 'em. I need my baby."

So I take off my white wellies and prop them against the chair. I climb into the small bed and raise the railing on the side so I don't fall off. Rowdy lifts the blanket over us and I cuddle underneath his arm, running my fingers through his disheveled hair.

He's tired, but he's fighting like hell to stay awake. I place my cheek next to his, just to hear him breathe.

It's a beautiful sound—the kind most folks take for granted.

I treasure every one.

"Cotton?" Rowdy moves his arm slightly and I massage it, tracing my fingers over his discolorations.

"Hmm?"

"What would you do if I died?"

I don't respond, the air catching in my lungs. I don't want to talk about things like this. Death isn't a choice for him; I won't let it be.

"You're not dying," I say, repeating my words from earlier.

"No, but let's say I was," he whispers. "Would you miss me?"

"I wouldn't miss you, Rowdy, 'cause I'd die too." I know most people would call it a theatrical statement of young love, but for me it's true. I'd don't know what I'd do without him. You can't live without a heart, and he'd take mine with him.

He hums and I know it's just the sleep talking. "I've been thinking about this whole God thing. Ya know, trying to figure out why it's so important to you. I don't reckon I can I be all spiritual like you are."

"No one's expecting you to be," I reply. "I believe it 'cause … well, I just do. I reckon somebody out there is looking out for me. I like the thought of that."

"It's a good thought to have," he murmurs, yawning. "I just hope God accepts me into Heaven when I die."

I glare at him, wanting him to stop all of the depressing thoughts. "Eventually," he adds.

"He will."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But when I get to those pearly gates, I'm going to have to answer why I didn't have faith like you Baptists do."

"What are you going to say?" I ask. The dim light above the sink flickers and Rowdy closes his eyes.

"I'm going to be honest, Cottonseed. I'm going to look Jesus right in the eye and without fibbing, tell Him the truth…"

Rowdy's hand twitches momentarily as he intertwines our fingers.

"There's no way in the world I could love something else as much as I love you."


	27. Chapter 27: Cuddles & Collapses

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Cuddles & Collapses**

_**One month later…**_

"AnnaBella Rain Cotton Swan, absolutely not! I can see your religion from here!" Papa yells at me from the top of the stairs as I struggle with two full cases of luggage.

"Leave her alone, Charlie!" Ma screams back. "It's a long drive. You can't expect her to wear her dress all the way there!"

Papa growls in defeat at Ma's words, eyeing the tiny coral shorts I'm wearing with disgust. Even though my blue rain boots match my modest shirt, he's not having it.

_You don't want boys seeing the Promised Land, _he always says.

Too late for that. I reckon I'll just call Rowdy "Moses" from now on.

I stick my tongue out at Papa and book it outside before he catches me. Alice Jo helps me shove everything I need for Biloxi in the back of Ma's van.

"You got your make-up case?" AJ asks. "You almost forgot it last time."

_Danggit. _"Nope, it's in the bathroom upstairs," I groan, trying to close the over-filled trunk.

"I'll get it," AJ offers. "Grab the snacks from the kitchen. Papa made some of that gator jerky. I think it's on the counter."

"Got it!" Alice Jo and I race back into the house, and while she runs upstairs, I rush into the kitchen. Pageant competition days are hectic and it seems like we're always running behind. Ma is stuffing snacks into a small cooler as Jessie cries and whines like a little baby.

"But I wanna go," she pouts, crossing her arms. Her pigtails swing side to side in protest.

"I said no, Jessica Beth Gracie, so you stop that fussin' right now!" Ma tosses a few drinks in with the snacks and locks the cooler. "I asked you a week ago to make your choice and you wanted to have a sleepover with Miss Esme and Emmett so that's what you're going to do! Ain't no room now anyways, with Rowdy and Jasper going. Maybe next time."

"Fine!" Jessie stomps her bare feet on the linoleum floor. "We're going to make a big ol' tent and eat popcorn and tell scary stories about what a mean mommy you are!"

She tries to run away but Papa is at the entrance of the kitchen, and he scoops her up with her feet still moving. "Are you being difficult, little girl?"

Jessie grins widely and scratches Papa's mustache. "No, Papa."

"You better not be," he laughs, ticking her belly. _She is spoiled rotten._

"Ma! Rowdy should be home from physical therapy by now. Let's go!" Rowdy's sessions are usually early in the morning and I'm anxious to go pick him up. I grab the cooler from the counter and give Papa and Jessie a kiss.

"You mind yourself, Cotton," Papa warns me. He's not exactly thrilled that the Masen boys are traveling with us hours away, but Ma paid for their hotel room next to ours. It's the last big competition before school starts and I'm excited to beat Lauren Mallory. I've been practicing like crazy.

I think Papa's going to give me another lashing about my outfit, but he wishes me good luck. He says he sorry he's missing it, but Ma promises to take tons of pictures.

AJ hugs Papa and Jessie goodbye and we all climb into Ma's van. Ma takes forever to start the engine, and AJ is already foolin' around with the radio from the front seat.

We finally start up the driveway when Ma comes to a screeching halt. "Oh my Lord!"

I glance up, and maybe it's cause the sun is shining in my eyes through the windshield, but I can't believe it. I jerk on the door handle, sliding it open and stepping out, shielding my eyes from the bright rays.

Jasper is walking up the driveway, but that's not why I'm shocked.

Rowdy is with him and he's not in a wheelchair. He's _walking_.

"Rowdy?" He's got this memory-that-makes-you-giggle, vanilla-ice-cream-with-sprinkles, cuddles-underneath-the-moon-and-stars stupid grin on his face.

_And it's everything._

I run towards him at full speed with my arms open wide, nearly knocking him down.

"Whoa, there!" he laughs, adjusting his arm brace crutches. "I'm happy to see you too!"

"Rowdy, you're walking! You're walking!" I squeal hallelujahs and oh-my-goshes as I wrap my arms around his neck. "How are you…? How can you…?"

After a month of his plasmapheresis treatments, Rowdy's had it rough because of nauseousness and cramps. They put him back on medicine and now he's doing physical therapy practically every day.

I can't believe he's improved so much.

He shrugs like it's nothing, but he's as proud as peacock. "Five days a week of Garrett kicking my ass during therapy and I'm finally moving on my own. I was walking last week, but I was still wobbly, so I wanted to practice some more before I finally surprised you."

It's the best surprise ever. I slobber him with kisses until Ma blows the horn.

"Hi to you too," Jasper says sarcastically, carrying their luggage.

"Oops. Hey ya, Jasper."

Jasper laughs and he knows I don't mean nothing by it. He's just as happy for his brother. I grab one of the bags from him and I watch Rowdy maneuver the crutches, one stilt at a time. He's very unsteady and his knees are bent inward. Jasper reaches out for him, but he shrugs him away.

"I got it. It's just a long way from the house, but I got it." I can tell he's exerting a ton of energy, and he's sweating from his brow, but I let him be. I'm not taking this moment from him and I don't care how late we are.

Ma pulls the van forward slowly, so slowly Rowdy doesn't notice because he's too busy trying to stand upright and move one foot at a time. I don't know how Ma knows not to offer any help, but she just does.

We finally reach the van and I help Jasper toss the luggage in the back. Rowdy can't climb into the van on his own, so he finally accepts our assistance. Jasper heaves him while I pull him forward so he can sit in the third row of seats with me.

"Good to see you, boys," Ma says, winking at me in the rearview mirror. I grin back while Jasper sits in the middle row and buckles in. He doesn't care that AJ is in the front seat, he just wants to be near her.

"Thanks for bringing us along, Mrs. Swan," Jasper says politely. _What a suck up. _

"No problem. I'm glad you wanted to come." Ma focuses on the road for a few minutes, but slaps AJ's hand away when she turns the radio to some awful pop music. "You know the drill, AJ. We have to vote on a station or it gets turned off."

"Are y'all always like this?" Rowdy whispers.

I nod my head, embarrassed. He has no idea.

That's how we usually ride: music-less. The five of us Swans can't agree on anything. So we argue the whole way, Papa gets fed up, and one of us ends up on the side of the road.

I'm not kidding. One time, he left four-year-old Jessie on the side of a cotton field until she quit throwing a tantrum. He only drove several hundred feet on a back road, but when you're young and chubby, it seems like your parents truly have abandoned you. I laughed and got dropped off next.

It wasn't so funny then.

An hour into the ride the screaming continues, mainly from AJ and Ma. Jasper jumps in to defend AJ's choice about a cheesy boy band, and somehow I get dragged into it.

"Enough! Lawd, y'all are worse than Jessie and she's not even here!" Ma is beyond frustrated as she digs into the console for a scratched up CD. She puts it in and bobs her head the second the music comes on.

"No, Ma. Please don't," AJ begs.

I pull my knees up to my chin and rock back and forth.

"What's wrong?" Rowdy asks in worry.

I peek up at him and say three simple words. "Ma's a belter." The woman I refuse to be related to starts drumming on the steering wheel, singing loud as she can to "My Girl" by The Temptations.

I'm tempted to kick my own self out of the vehicle.

_I've got sunshine on a cloudy day..._

"This is my jam!" Jasper yells in a southern tone and it sounds all kinds of wrong.

_When it's cold outside I've got the month of May..._

AJ grins and joins Ma, snapping her fingers.

_I guess you'd say…_

_What can make me feel this way?_

Oh no. Jasper is singing along too. When Rowdy passes over an invisible mic, I know I've lost all hope.

_My girl, my girl, my girl…  
>Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl.<em>

Three hours later, all of the gator jerky is gone, we're still dancing and crooning along, and no one's been abandoned on the side of the road.

It's been a good trip.

.

.

.

"If your father could see you now!" Ma exclaims in awe, helping me zip up the side of my light blue gown.

"He'd be praying for my soul," I reply mockingly, adjusting the shoulder strap. The glittery gown is beautiful, with a criss-cross design in the back and a low-cut dip that goes practically down to my bottom. Papa would have a fit. Maybe Ma should only take pictures of my front side.

Ma laughs. "You got that right." She helps me pin a few curls to the side, but other than seeing her between sets, I'm on my own. I peek through the side of the curtain, glancing out at the crowd. The stage's lights blare outward as the announcer begins the competition, but I see Rowdy, AJ, and Jasper sitting in the third row. The other contestants buzz about me, snipping here, taping there … it's a complete madhouse.

I layer on another coat of lip gloss and pucker my lips. Ma knows better than to mess up my makeup, so she gives me air kisses and last minute advice. "Stand up straight. And walk right foot first. It's not a ball gown, so you're going to have to stretch your leg through the slit. Remember to look each judge in the eye."

"I got it, Ma!" She's such a stage mom. She doesn't understand that she's making my nerves worse.

"Okay, okay. I'm gone. I'll be back to help with your swimsuit. Good luck, sweetie!"

She scurries through the crowd of teens as I squeeze between two girls to make sure my eyelashes are glued on tightly. Glancing in the mirror, I don't even recognize myself. I reckon these pageants are like that. They give you a crown just for pretending to be someone you aren't.

I'm so nervous, I don't notice that it's Lauren Mallory fixing her hair beside me. She's beat me before and is still gloating in her victory.

"Oh look, its number two. How does it feel to be second place?" she snarks, pinning a blonde curl.

I roll my eyes. "Hush, Lauren. You only won last time 'cause you were half-naked. It ain't happening again. We all have to wear the same swimsuit."

"Good. Now they'll see what a fat ass you are."

It takes everything in me not to slug her across the face. I glance down, and even though I'm thin from all of my baton practicing and exercise, doubt rushes through my veins.

"Shut up." I'm not going to stoop down to her level and when I turn to walk away, she clutches my arm to stop me.

"Make sure you blow a few kisses to your retarded boyfriend out there," Lauren snickers as I wrangle myself out of her grasp. "I saw him hobbling. He looks even more graceful than you do."

Her words shock me to the core. _How dare she belittle him like that!_

I raise a fist in the air, but before I can swing my arm a firm hand reaches out to stop me. "She ain't worth it, Cotton."

I turn around to see Rowdy stopping me from getting myself kicked out.

"Don't worry, baby. See, blondie over here is jealous 'cause her damn weave is falling out, I can see her stuffed bra from across the room, and she's got a zit the size of Mississippi spreadin' across her chin." Rowdy glares at her and Lauren gasps as she touches her face.

"Fuck you, Cripple!" she yells defiantly.

"No, fuck you, and if you lay your nasty hands on my girl again you'll be the one hobbling. So crawl back to whatever pit of hell you escaped from!" Rowdy's nose flares and though I know he's not the type to hit a girl, his anger has reached its limit.

"Whatever! Watch your back, Cotton Ball…" She flips her hair and storms away, teetering on her too-high heels.

The announcer gives orders that everyone should line up and girls scurry past me. I refuse to move and my eyes water with frustration. "What's wrong with her? Why did she have to say all that mean stuff?"

Rowdy takes two awkward steps towards the vanity and removes his arm crutches, leaning them against the small table. He struggles to stand up, but does it anyway just to gently wipe my tears away. "Folks ain't got no good sense, that's all Cottonseed. You can't let that she-devil get to you."

"B-but, she called … she called you cr-crippled!" I refuse to say the other word. There's too many tears for him to catch now and they fall on my expensive dress.

"You think that bothers me?" Both hands caress my face and he peers so deeply at me that I feel my soul withering away. "You ain't got to defend me, Cotton. I know who I am. She doesn't. She's scared 'cause she knows you're competition. So don't cry, baby. You keep giving that bitch your tears and she'll use 'em to drown you. Just kick her ass out there. Show her what a real winner looks like."

He gives me a crooked grin, trying to cheer me up, but it's not working. I want to know why everyone seems to hate me. The Weber girls, Lauren, Jake and Billy … it never seems to stop.

I feel like Rose Charlotte is standing on top of my shoulder, reminding me to forgive, forgive, forgive. I'm tired of excusing other folks' behavior and being the better person; I'm tired of being hated.

I'm tired of being me.

Rowdy kisses my forehead, but he doesn't understand. I want to rip off this stupid gown and crumble into a ball. I want to wash off this make-up and let it run down, down, down my face.

I want a pillow to weep in and a warm blanket to hide under. He acts like people's words don't hurt, but they do. They're like bullets and they shoot at me again and again, breaking me open until I bleed nothing but hurt and pain.

My knees buckle and Rowdy, through his weakness, catches me before I fall. I breathe heavily, violently gasping for air that seems to elude me.

"Baby…" Rowdy's arms wrap around me and together we collapse onto the floor. He rocks me back and forth, and all of the frustration I've been holding in over the past few months leaving me in waves. I hiccup and gasp and I'm afraid I'm on the edge of a panic attack.

"Shh … Cottonseed, it's all right … it's all right…" Rowdy kisses my hair here and there, trying to calm me down.

"It ain't all right!" I scream, pounding the floor. "It ain't right at all! When do I stop being so nice? After they curse me out? After they threaten to beat me? After they call you every name in the book? When, Rowdy? When?"

"You don't." He's whispers in my ear and murmurs voices of reason I can't comprehend. "You don't stop, baby. You've got all that goodness inside of you. Just keep spreading it around and it'll come back to you, I promise."

But I don't feel the good inside of me. I feel an ache that's shredding me apart.

_Break._

_Rip._

_Tear._

_Destroy._

Part by part, bit by bit, I lose pieces of myself.

But they haven't disappeared. They've been devoured and consumed by a raging jealousy from others I can't control.

_I refuse to try anymore._

I sob and it's a stark ugliness compared to my beautiful dress. Snot drips out of my nose and onto Rowdy's shirt. He doesn't care and clutches onto me. I hold him like life. "What if I give it all away and I don't have nothing left?"

Rowdy lifts my chin and holds my strength when I feel like giving up.

"That heart of yours is like a well. It's as deep as can be. Folks like that blonde girl are so thirsty, they expect you to be too. Just keep pouring out the love, Cotton, and it'll overflow."

"And if that well goes empty?" I gaze at him with watery eyes filled with desperation and hopelessness.

Rowdy murmurs and holds my hand to his chest. "Then you take from mine. You've already given me so much, I won't ever run dry."


	28. Chapter 28: Race & Royalty

_Cherry likes to gallivant (doing whatever it is that gallivanters do), Mia makes me sob, and MariaVB is a burrito of cray-cray! _

_Readers- U. Me. Fountain Feels & Tater Meals. I heart y'all._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Eight: Race &amp; Royalty<strong>

_I can do this._

"Our last—but not least—contestant is AnnaBella Swan, from Forks County. At fifteen she enjoys spending time with her family, dancing in the rain, and her greatest wish is for there to be world peace."

I smile, showing my whitened teeth as I walk down the stage, the lights blinding me. World peace my ass.

Rowdy taught me that to get anywhere, I've got to take a piece of this world.

And so I do. I hold my back unnaturally upright as I sashay with my heels. The audience is full and even though Ma is yelling, "That's my baby," my eyes are fixed on Rowdy. He gives me a thumbs up, and I am sweet, calm confidence. He makes me bold. Brave. Deliriously unafraid.

.

.

.

Lauren Mallory keeps her distance, but that doesn't stop her from glaring at me throughout the competition. After we strut in our swimsuits, I change back into my dress for the questioning portion of the pageant. It's been narrowed down to ten girls and though Lauren is still in the running, I think my baton throwing went extremely well. I even added fire this time and managed not to burn down the building.

The only one smoldering is my boy.

The judges have called us by name and with the remaining contestants left, we stand on the left side of the stage as the announcer calls us over.

"Miss Mallory, aside from pageants, what would you consider to be your greatest accomplishment?"

The microphone is thrust into her face and Lauren freezes with a deer in headlights look. I can tell this is not a question she was expecting. They usually prepare us for questions about education or the essence of a being a true queen. This one comes out of left field, and Lauren is knocked down from her pedestal.

"I … my greatest accomplishment would be … in a society where accomplishments are important…" Lauren stutters, attempting to think of an answer. "Er, I believe I have accomplished … being a good person. I have done this by … volunteering. Yes! I have volunteered in feeding the homeless, and helping others has been my greatest accomplishment."

I roll my eyes at her lies. _Feeding the stray puppy you found on the street last week does not count._

"Thank you, Miss Mallory." Lauren smiles widely and stumbles back to the line beside me.

"Fuck!" she hisses between her teeth, whispering to the contestant beside her. "I wasn't expecting that!"

The judges scribble frantically, but you can never tell by their expression what they are thinking. It's not looking good for her though. The questions are worth thirty percent of our score and Lauren looks like she's going to cry.

I don't get a chance to say anything because my name is called next.

"AnnaBella Swan…" I walk gracefully across the runway, standing and holding a wide smile. Ma leans forward in her seat and Rowdy blows me a kiss. He encourages me even though he's hundreds of feet away. My heart thumps in my chest and I wait impatiently for my question.

"If you could redo one event in history, what would it be and why?"

My mouth runs dry as I blink at the beaming, flashing lights. There are lots of things I would redo: wars that have killed people or the invention of money. I would also prevent the medical field from screwing people like Rowdy over.

But as much as these answers seem fitting, I can't bring myself to say them.

I glance over at Lauren and her eyes are bloodshot red. She holds back her tears for the sake of the pageantry, but I know she's going to go full on baby mode once we hit backstage.

_I know what that's like._

"AnnaBella?"

The presenter repeats my name and I clear my throat. "If I could redo one event in history, I would allow Lauren Mallory to answer my question. Standing up here on the stage is nerve-wracking. Sometimes we get so focused on what we want to say that we forget that each of us up here is human. And in order to be the best human we can be, we have to show humanity. So I wish to forgo answering this in order to allow Lauren Mallory a do-over."

The crowd murmurs in shock. The judges lean over, whispering to each other, and the head judge nods his head.

"Okay, um, this is different." The lady fumbles over her words. "The judges have agreed to allow Miss Mallory to answer Miss Swan's question."

Lauren's eyes go wide and she has to be coerced by the other ladies to move across the stage.

I stand back several feet as the presenter holds the mic out to Lauren.

Lauren has this expression on her face and I hope she's not angry with me. She smiles brightly and answers the question with ease.

"If I could redo one event in history it would be to stop the invention of weapons, because the world is filled with hatred and crimes. I would want to create a better one by not having weaponries that hurt other people. So many lives would be saved, and that in itself changes history. Thank you."

The crowd cheers for her impeccable answer and in front of everyone, the strangest thing happens.

Lauren Mallory hugs me.

.

.

.

"Congratulations!"

Rowdy smothers me in kisses and I catch my sparkly crown just before it falls. "Thanks!"

I smile and I'm all giddy and filled with a joy Rowdy makes sure he repeats to me over and over again. Ma's camera flashes so much she causes spots in my eyes. I'm head-in-the-clouds, over-the-moon, love-dizzy happy.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie!" She wraps me up in a hug as AJ attempts to save my roses from being crushed. I don't even care. They will wilt, but this moment will stay with me forever.

"That was awesome!" Jasper says, patting me on the back.

"Way to go, Cotton!" AJ grins. "That's my sister! My sister won!"

She points and yells to people that pass by, honored just to be related to me. I fix my silky queen sash as Lauren passes me with the smaller, second-place crown on her head. I watch her give her family hugs and as they stroll away, she waves and mouths a simple, quiet word.

_Thanks._

Rowdy rolls his eyes, 'cause I guess he was expecting her to show more gratitude, but it doesn't bother me none. I didn't do what I did to be told I'm a great person; I did it because I'm supposed to treat others in the way I expect to be treated.

"You're a better one than me," Rowdy whispers, nudging me and pointing in her direction.

"Why's that?"

"I would've stuffed that crown down her snobby little throat," he says bitterly.

A smile sweeps across my face. "And mess up all these pretty diamonds? I couldn't do that. And besides, I've got to spread the love, remember? Let it overflow, just like you said."

"I reckon." Rowdy smirks and walks through the double doors with me. "But once in a while, it's okay to let a few bitches suffocate and go under."

.

.

.

Ma is wiped out and exhausted. As soon as we finish eating a celebratory supper in my honor, she leaves the four of us to cause mayhem. "Stay together. And don't go too far! And be back by nine. We've got to leave early in the morning!"

There's a movie theatre down the street from the hotel, and Jasper and Alice Jo leave immediately. AJ doesn't want to spend any more time with me than I want to with her. She's all too happy to abandon me.

Rowdy waves his room card in his hand as we stand in the overcrowded lobby. "Wanna go up to my room?"

Any air I breathe is replaced by a furry of butterflies. "You mean the room _right next _to ours? I don't think so. If Ma catches me…"

Lauren was right, I will be a cotton ball. Ma would kill me. Then she'd unravel me just to kill me again.

_I brought you into this world_, she says. _I'll take you out._

I'm quite fond of living, thank you very much.

"Oh, come on! When do we ever spend time together?" Rowdy's eyes gleam and he's full of wicked thoughts. Collarbone kisses and sweaty-palm memories flash in my mind. He wants to take me.

I want to let him.

"We see each other every day," I remark sarcastically.

"I meant alone." He raises an eyebrow and those green hues I love so much tempt me. He's intent on devouring me and for a boy with nothing, he knows what it's like to starve.

But he makes me greedy and I crave.

"Fine," I huff. "But if we get caught…"

"We won't." He's so sure of himself as he leads me to the elevator and pushes the up arrow. We wait until the doors slide open with a ding. My nerves are in a bundle as Rowdy presses the white button for the fifth floor. "Besides, you're queen now."

"So?"

Rowdy's arm braces don't deter him as he thrusts me against the mirrored elevator walls, pressing his bulge against my aching center. I swallow as he breathes into my ear and the warmth travels down my neck.

"Let me bow down."


	29. Chapter 29: Intermix & Innocence

_Cherry- Quit anticipating the bad. It's like you don't trust me anymore. Mia- Until you convince me otherwise, you're a flying zebra. _

_Readers- You're all sorts of awesome. I won 3rd place for Newbie Author in the Fandom Awards! And when I say "I", I mean "we."_

_Thanks. *steals your cupcakes anyways*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Nine: Intermix &amp; Innocence <strong>

He's supposed to be safe.

With crutches, Rowdy's harmless, a boy too sick and innocent to really cause me any harm. He's weak and fragile, and it gives me the upper hand.

Until he throws them across the dimly lit room.

They fall somewhere between the hotel couch and the loss of my innocence. My mouth has gone dry and I drink him in. He hovers halfway over me, one leg pulled between mine as my gown hitches upward.

Rowdy pulls the two large bobby pins from my curls and my hair falls around my shoulder. I need the protection, somewhere to hide from his heavy love-drunken gaze. If for a second I think I can disappear from his view, I'm wrong.

"Fuck, you taste sweet." Rowdy nibbles on the side of my neck, soft kisses that intermix with his tongue that drags along my collarbone. Instinctively, the tips of my fingers run across the hairs on his jaw. It makes him cradle his hand under my chin and my brown eyes meet his.

"Can I have you?" It's a question that as a teenager, I don't understand. My breath hitches, but he won't let me answer. He pecks the fine hairs behind my ear, blowing softly.

"Can I make you mine?" _As if I'm not already._ He knows he owns me, just like he owns the cells in his body; I'm a part of him that I gave away the day we met.

My heart strings pull and he tugs them, making me the weak one. "Please," I beg and he groans, kissing me in a crazy, I-need-you, what-is-air sort of way. He makes me dependent on him, as if I don't need anything else to exist.

Rowdy is methodically slow, unzipping my dress on the side and watching the skin peek through. When the thick strap on my left shoulder falls he reaches over, caressing me as he moves it down. His touch makes me shiver and my chest is exposed.

Rowdy licks the pad of his thumb and his knuckles brush against me he reaches for my right breast. The cool air and his warm finger are contradicting and I tremble, sinking beneath him.

"Oh!" My mouth parts open as he dips his head to suck on one nipple while skimming the other. I don't know how my hands end up in his disheveled hair, but they do. He circles and licks and I moan his name in blasphemy.

He speeds up his motions and his tongue as I grip him harder. My hips rise off the bed, but his leg keeps me there, steady and locked into place.

He'll never let me go.

"Rowdy…" _Please. Please. Please_. I beg for everything. I plead for nothing. At some point, someone's going to fall and it's going to be me.

Rowdy finally releases me to catch his breath, but I reach out for him, yanking his shirt buttons out of order. He struggles to pull the sleeves off and then tosses it onto the floor.

He's always been too grown for his age, both his words and his body. Coarse threads of hair spread over his chest and he's sixteen going on forever. I touch him tenderly, exploring avenues I never get to treasure.

My dress is in a pool around my waist and Rowdy is anxious to get rid of it. I help him and we yank together until both my gown and panties have fallen off the bed. He's slow and careful, climbing over me.

"I'm going to taste you, Cotton baby," he whispers as he hovers just over my lips. We breathe the same air and my legs clench around his waist. I whimper and he smirks.

"You want that? You want my tongue in that pussy?" My fingernails dig into his back and he kisses me hungrily. He only breaks to kiss and lick me as he scoots down.

Chin. Neck. Chest. Belly button. _There._

Rowdy has no idea how he looks between my thighs. I try to think of other things, good things, but they all come back to him. My heart beats rapidly as I grip the sheets. He parts me, with two arms gripping me tightly. He slides his thumb over my skin, where I'm swollen and needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're wet," he says hoarsely. His voice is low and hot—burning. Rowdy's mossy green eyes gaze up at me as he kisses me one time.

This can't be real. My body freezes and lifts, it moves high and it stills. I've never, ever, ever had someone kiss me down there and it's heaven on earth. The sheet twists in my hands 'cause I need more, more, more.

"I'm going to kiss you, Cottonseed."

He does it again and my voice is stuck in my throat, refusing to be set free.

"I'm going to lick you." His tongue traces from the top to the bottom and I am gone, gone, gone.

"Please." It seems to be the only word I can get out since we've entered this room. My blood is running too hot and I'm scared I'm going to burn alive.

"No." Rowdy pauses, but continues circling with his thumb as I lose my mind.

"No?" I choke out. Why is he stopping? I want … need … demand him to keep going.

"I lied," he whispers. "I ain't going to kiss you."

Cold air drifts between my legs.

"I ain't going to lick you."

I'm on the verge of tears.

"I'm going to fuck your pussy with my mouth." He dives in and I scream his name like it's the Ten Commandments. It's wrong, but he's deep. It's improper, but he's not even trying to go easy.

He's shattering me and I am dying, dying, dying a thousand times.

"Fuck!" I don't care that I'm cursing. I can't control it. His tongue does all sorts of things I've never imagined. He likes that he's all green in my world of red. He colors it with love until I'm dizzy, with affection until I'm blind.

I can't see anything more than distorted dots as he slides a finger inside of me, pumping as he continues to work his mouth. I have nothing to hold on to but these damn sheets, and they're not enough for my boy.

He feels good. Too, too good.

My hips buck, but he grips me harder. "Rowdy!" He has no idea my belly is in a hundred and one knots, or that he's breaking them with the motion of his tongue. I scream over and over, and his hand reaches up to silence me. His fingers curl in my mouth as I release everything in this dark blur I'm in.

Tears slip out of my eyes and Rowdy licks one final time before looking up.

"Baby?" I shake my head, unable to speak. He slides up towards me as I cover my eyes. _Nothing's wrong_, I want to say. _Everything is right._

Somehow he knows and his lips meet mine, giving me back some sense of myself. I taste myself on him and I am too far gone to care. Rowdy shushes my tears with whispered words and soft kisses.

"I love you," he murmurs, over and over. It's like a chant of devotion, recited only for me to hear. He pulls me apart, but mends me back together. He soothes me with sweetness and draws me back from drifting.

My clit throbs and I want him now. It's my decision to give him all of me; I choose him and him alone.

"Rowdy, I need you," I cry softly, but my body is already at another level as I tug at his pants. I don't have the patience to unbutton them, so I try to yank them. Rowdy laughs and it vibrates in my ear.

"Slow, baby," he breathes, shifting so his jeans fall down. "We've got time. I want to love you slowly."

"Love you like we've got forever." I blink as he settles between my legs, his hard muscle throbbing against me. He cradles my face and hitches my leg around him. I strain not to push against him as he moves himself up and down between my folds.

"Love you like time doesn't exist." My back arches and cling to him as his lips meet mine, wet, sticky, and warm. He strokes himself and I can practically feel myself leaving this room. It's an out-of-body experience, the kind I don't even believe in. Rowdy keeps his eyes on me as I gasp.

"I want to love you eternally." I suck in every ounce of air as his pushes just inside of me. It burns, burns, burns. It aches and it fucking hurts.

Tears slip again, but I don't want him to stop. _Keep going._ My beautiful boy pauses, but I reach around him, grasping his thick flesh and pushing him further. I cry out, because it's too much.

But I'm convinced that it's not enough.

Rowdy lifts my hips as he sinks into me, inch by painful inch. Somewhere along the way we both stop breathing, aware that we've given something the other is willing to take.

I'm not losing my virginity, I'm giving it away with a damn bow on top.

I try to budge, but he keeps me still. "You're so fucking warm. Don't move, Cotton baby. I don't want to—not yet."

Both of his hands grasp mine, but I keep my leg hitched around him. He's willing, but he's trying to hold on to this moment. My cheeks flush, and I'm on the brink of falling apart.

He has to move. He has to.

He whispers, "Hold tight," but I'm not listening. I clench my fingers into his backside, pulling him inward and making him plunge into me with a force neither of us is ready for.

I scream and cry out.

I'm desperate.

And there's not a verse in the world that could convince me otherwise.


	30. Chapter 30: Steady & Scarlet

**Chapter Thirty: Steady & Scarlet**

He is rock-steady, push-pull, right-there, don't-stop, don't-stop, don't-stop gorgeous.

Rowdy's hips move maddeningly slow as his forehead rests against mine. Our hands are intertwined above my head and he whispers love, love, love with heated breaths.

It burns like hell, and I cling to his soul with every thrust. It's the only thing keeping me from twisting, crying, shaking, and running.

I clench my eyes shut, praying for the pain to go away. "I'll stop, baby," he whispers. "Tell me to stop…"

He knows I can't; he knows I want this and I couldn't ask him that even if the room was burning around us. So I take the fire within and I quench it with his love.

Rowdy releases one hand, gripping my thigh and pulling it higher. It makes him go deeper, reaching spots he couldn't feel before.

"I can't hold on," he groans, and a bead of his sweat drips on my nose. I pant and Rowdy adjusts his position and pulls out of me. He props himself on his weak knees and I see the slightest bit of red on his skin.

"You see that, Cotton baby?" He slides himself back into me. It still hurts like hell, but the burning is starting to subside. He pulls out. "You see what you're giving me?"

I moan at his words and he does it again. In. Out. In. Out. Each time, my body sucks him back in and I clench around him. He strains as he drags me closer, so that my arched bottom rubs against his thighs. He rubs my clit with this thumb, pumping continuously.

My small breasts bounce up and down and I feel the need to grab them. Rowdy rocks me steadily, shaking my world along with him. "Tell me you love, baby…"

I can't speak. I blink, breathe, cry, but no words form. Rowdy's nails dig into my waist. My toes curl and my heart pumps too fast. It rushes, pulsating for him. Only him.

"Tell me … tell me you love." His words are broken fragments as he plunges into me. He's not being gentle any more.

"_My heart is beating for you like it's fucking."_

"_Fuck-ing?" My eyes go wide at his dirty words._

"_And I could stop if I wanted to..."_

Rowdy is the filthiest of liars. He can't stop at all. He digs and finds, thrusts and drives into me with wild abandonment. I cry out, spewing words I mean but can't say clearly. "I love, Rowdy! I love, I love, I love!"

I come undone as he pushes several more times with murmurs of my name leaving his lips. He falls forward but I catch him. He smothers me with kisses too scattered to keep up with.

"You fib," he accuses me, breathless and wrapping his arms around me.

I gasp, trying to speak. "What?"

"You can't love, Cottonseed. You _are _love."

I think he's delirious, so I laugh. "That don't make any sense."

"It's like telling the moon to moon. It can't. But you can tell it to glow. And that's what you're doing. Glowing all around me, just by being you."

He tickles the delicate skin around my nipples, curled up so that we're inhaling each other's air. "I'd rather be a sun."

"Naw," Rowdy answers, strumming his fingers down my belly. "The sun's too hot. It'll burn you alive. But see, the moon has these craters…"

Rowdy takes me to outer space and way out there, we love and we are love. It's the same, really.

He explores, I see stars, and by the time we're done, there's meteor showers all over the place.

.

.

.

Rowdy kisses me just as I shut the door behind me. It snaps closed with a sound that startles me and I jump.

"Well, well, well." Alice Jo's voice scares the living daylights out of me as she and Jasper come strolling down the hall. "What do we have here?"

_Oh. Crap._

AJ walks in circles around me. "Dress not zipped up all the way."

"Messy hair." She twirls a knotted curl around her finger.

"Smudged lipstick." She wipes my bottom lip and holds her hand up as evidence.

"AJ, please, please, please. Don't say nothing to Ma."

"Oh I won't," she says, crossing her arms. "I've been waiting for this day a long while now. I have demands."

She cares less about my sinning and more about how this profits her. "What do you want?"

The list is so long, Jasper leaves us to go into his room. I can hear him and Rowdy laughing it up.

_Bastard._

"… and those yellow rain boots of yours. I'm thinking it's time I start wearing pretty things."

"Not my boots, AJ. Anything but my boots."

"Ma!" She screams real loud and I hold my hand over her mouth to shut her up.

"Hush! Fine. You can have my stupid boots!" We shake on it, and there's no take backs. I know she won't say anything, but I have to keep her quiet anyways.

"So, how was it?" AJ slides the card into the door lock and glances back at me with curious eyes.

"Like Heaven," I sigh dreamily.

"I bet," she snickers. "You know, Jasper and I talked about it, but we ain't ready yet."

"You're too young," I say, as if me being the older sister makes me an adult.

"Look who's talking," she snarks back. "But I'm glad we haven't. I'm waiting until marriage, but Jasper keeps condoms in his wallet just in case."

_Condom?_

The blood drains out of my face and I glance down my sore, sore legs.

Damn him. Damn Rowdy and all his queen talk and his stupid moons.

Sweet Baby Jesus.

.

.

.

I don't speak to Rowdy for three whole days. I've got a lot on my mind, being a non-virginal pregnant teen and all.

Sure, he comes by, but Ma tells him I'm sick and she just keeps feeding me chicken noodle like it's the cure for pregnancy. It isn't, but I eat it anyway.

For the baby.

When Ma's gone shopping and Papa is at work, I sneak thread and needles from Ma's sewing kit. Jessie runs into my room, begging me to play hide n' seek.

"I can't right now," I say, positioning the rain boot between my legs. "I'm busy."

"Busy doing what?" Jessie watches me thread the needle and stick it into my boot. It's difficult, but I think I can make it work.

"Sewing."

Jessie sits in silence, looking at me move the thread in and out until it starts to form a letter.

"A?" she asks, tilting her head. "Why on earth are you sewing an A?"

I hang my head in defeat. It's my scarlet letter.

"'Cause, Jessie, I'm a sinner. I'm a sinner of the worst kind!" Tears escape my eyes as she hugs me around the waist.

"Oh, Cotton!" Jessie bawls with me and she doesn't even know why.

"Cotttttttttton!" AJ screams from downstairs. "Rowdy's here!"

I sniffle and wipe my tears, careful not to poke myself in the eye.

"It's okay, Cotton," Jessie comforts me. "You just keep sewing that A and I'll find your other boot and we'll finish the entire alphabet!"

Her words just start a whole new round of waterworks. By the time Rowdy enters my room, my face is red and Jessie's got an armful of my shoes. She runs out the door, bumping into Rowdy.

"Woah there! Slow down, Jessie," he says, straightening his crutches.

"I can't," she says breathlessly. "Cotton's a sinner and she needs her ABC's done so Baby Jesus can forgive her."

"What?" Rowdy glances around in confusion, but Jessie's already gone, singing and yelling for AJ to help her so I can save my soul.

I cover my eyes, sobbing as Rowdy locks the door and approaches me. "Cotton?"

He sits carefully on the bed beside me, rubbing my back.

"Don't touch me!" I cry. "That's how we got into this mess in the first place! You gotta get a job Rowdy and I need more thread for my boots. And I gotta breastfeed, but my boobs aren't even that big so our baby is gonna starve…"

"Come again?" Rowdy looks at me with concern and I lose it.

"I'm pregnant, Rowdy!" I yell, throwing my boot onto the floor. "I'm with child and Papa is gonna kick your ass until you can't walk again!"

Rowdy's eyes widen, but all I can think about are car seats when I don't have a car and baby food that isn't carrots. I refuse to let my baby eat carrots.

There won't be any of that veggie eatin' around here.

"Cotton, shhh," Rowdy wraps his arms around me. "It's been three days. I don't think you're pregnant."

I wrangle myself out of his grasp and stand up. Poking my belly out as far as it will go, I cup my hands underneath. "I am! Look how big I'm getting. Oh, Lord! It's gonna be a big one! It's gonna shoot out of my vagina like grease in a frying pan!"

I bawl and hold my swollen belly and wonder if Ma will sew baby booties or if she'll be too mad.

Rowdy sits on the bed, laughing up a storm as I cry in agony over my scarlet letter baby.

.

.

.

Six days later my cycle shows up.

I reckon I wasn't pregnant at all. I told Charlotte Rose everything that had happened and she suggested birth control pills.

Well, first she hit me on the arm for doing the horizontal mambo, then we prayed and I asked God for mercy. We made a plan to ask our mothers together so they wouldn't be suspicious, and we'd say we needed 'em for cramps.

Tomorrow is the first day of school and I'm just happy I'm not going there knocked up.

So I lie in bed, listening to Jessie whisper about something or another when a rock hits my window. In the still of the night, I smile.

Rowdy's back.

I figure I'm going to be asking for forgiveness again and again.


	31. Chapter 31: Copycats & Crutch-less

_Cherry's a BETAing vag-puncher, Mia sends me weird emoticons, and you only want me for my Rowdy._

_I loved you all, once upon a time. *sobs and runs away*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-One: Copycats &amp; Crutch-less <strong>

"You wear the red one, Charlotte Rose," I say, holding up a tweed dress. "I'll wear the pink one and then we'll match."

My best friend raids my closet at 5:45 am, panicking over what to wear for the first day of school. I thought we had it all planned out, but she's so nervous that she keeps changing her mind.

"I can't believe Renee bought you all these clothes. It isn't fair! Mama told me I could fit in the same jeans from last year and that I had to make due."

I glance at her in pity. I know how fortunate I am, wearing designer clothes Ma bought out in the city, but I make sure not to flaunt my wealth around. It wouldn't be fair or Baptist of me. "What's mine is yours, okay?"

Charlotte Rose smiles, touching the fabric. "All right. Thanks Cotton."

I grin back, ripping the tag off before she sees the expensive price. "No problem."

We spend the next hour primping, putting on makeup, and curling our hair. By the time we're done getting dressed, I've tossed on a light striped coat and my black wellies with a matching gem necklace. I feel like I can conquer the world—or at least tenth grade.

"How do we look?" I ask, staring in the full-length mirror.

"Sophisticated," she grins. "Like sophomores should be."

"Girls! Hurry up! Breakfast is ready!" Ma yells from downstairs, so I stuff my backpack with my new notebooks and trapper keeper. Charlotte reminds me to grab extra pens and I pack my front pocket with fancy ones, the kind with feathers at the top.

Charlotte Rose grabs my hand and we race to the kitchen where Ma's made our special first day of school meal. There's waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, bacon, and omelets spread out all over the table.

But I'm not focusing on the food; I'm too busy staring at my little sisters.

Alice Jo grins at me, sticking out _my _yellow boots that match her blue jeans and yellow sports jersey. She's topped it all off with a backwards cap.

She looks absolutely ridiculous and I despise her for it.

"Like my outfit, Cotton?" she smirks, stuffing a waffle into her mouth.

"You look-"

I'm about to say a not-so-nice word, but she stops me. "Great, right? One might even call me, _sex-y_?"

She emphasizes the last word and Ma holds up a spatula to chastise her. "Alice Jo! I don't like that word!"

AJ just laughs. "Sorry, Ma."

I'm gonna kill her. One of these days, I'm going to bury her tomboy little body in a ditch and all that will be left behind is a stray baseball bat and a tattered shirt.

"Do you like my dress, Cotton?" Jessie stands up from her seat, twirling in circles. "Ma got me boots just like you. And my dress is all frilly and pink and I look like a princess, don't I?"

"_My_ princess," Ma agrees, kissing her cheek.

"What is going on here?" I pout, falling into my chair with crossed arms. "Boots are my thing, Ma! Why did you have to go and buy her those?"

"Oh hush, Cotton. She looks adorable. All of you do."

"I have no identity!" I say, stabbing my omelet with a fork. "Where's the uniqueness? Folks always say, 'Cotton Swan? I know who that is. She's the girl that always wears the boots.' But nooooo, not now. I'm just one of many in this cesspool of copycats!"

"Yeah, you're a copycat!" Jessie accuses AJ, poking her in the arm with a slice of bacon.

AJ yells, "ow," Ma tells us to cut it out, and Charlotte Rose tries to yank off Jessie's boot in my defense.

By the time we leave for school, I'm the only one wearing rain boots, and there's not a thing AJ can do about it.

.

.

.

Usually Charlotte Rose and I ride the bus that picks us up at the end of the road, but it's nice to have the Masen boys join us this year. When we arrive five minutes late, Rowdy and Jasper are already there.

And Rowdy is crutch-free.

"What in the world?" I ask, wrapping him up in a hug. "No crutches?"

"Nope," he grins proudly, kissing me on the lips. He leans forward, still uneasy on his feet, but I don't mind holding his weight. "I figure I better start off the new year without people calling me wheels or cripple."

"I wish they would," Jasper mutters. As much as he and Rowdy joke around, I know he would protect his brother at all times.

"They wouldn't dare!" I threaten. "I'd gut 'em like fishes!"

"Cotton!" Charlotte Rose opens her mouth in shock. "That isn't a very nice thing to say."

I shrug. Nobody messes with my boy. Rowdy laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "Cottonseed's gotten feisty."

_Damn right._

"Do you know what classes you're taking, Jasper?" Charlotte Rose asks him.

Jasper is just a grade below us in ninth and Rowdy is in eleventh. It'll suck not having at least one of the boys in my classes.

"Integrated algebra," Jasper answers, pulling out his class schedule they mailed the week before. "US history. And Living Environment, whatever that is."

"It's a science class," Charlotte Rose explains. "I hope you get Mr. Cooper. He's real nice and all last year we just watched lots of science documentaries."

"Nice," he says quietly, kicking a pebble onto the main road. I know he's sad 'cause AJ is still in middle school, but I reckon he'll make it. AJ is going to cause a whole heap of trouble by the time she gets here next year, and I doubt Jasper is ready for the loudness that is Alice Jo Summer.

For the first time, I truly notice the Masen boys' appearance. Their clothes aren't brand new exactly, probably second-hand, but they're new to them and they both look great. Rowdy's wearing a grey tee with a plaid shirt over it and faded jeans. His book bag is slung over one shoulder, but the best part of all is that he's smiling.

We wait a few more minutes when Riley Biers—the same one who gave Rowdy the necklace at the cake-walk—drives slowly towards us. "Y'all need a ride?"

Riley's the same age as Rowdy, only he's got his license and he's responsible. He's a good kid and Deacon Biers brags about him all the time in church. Riley unlocks the doors to his used Ford Explorer, and without asking us twice, we jump in.

Way cooler than that stupid yellow submarine they call a school bus.

.

.

.

The first day of school is just like I expect it to be, with folks being obnoxious and carrying on like they haven't got any good sense. Everyone acts like they haven't seen each other all summer and the teachers act like we've never left. By the time fourth period is over, I have homework assignments and a paper due by next week.

The tenth grade sucks.

Rowdy and I agree to meet by my locker for lunchtime and when he approaches, he's limping badly. "Rowdy, you all right?"

"I'm fine," he groans, leaning against the wall. "This school is bigger than my last one."

"I'm sure Riley can take you home to get your braces," I say softly.

"No!" He yells a little too loudly and it makes me nearly jump out of my skin. "I mean, no. I've got it. It's just been a tough morning. Let's just get some food, okay?"

Rowdy's never raised his voice to me, ever. I'm startled and feeling uneasy that he's so upset and full of pride. I reckon I don't see what the big deal is or what he's trying to prove. The whole town already knows he's sick. School isn't any different, and I don't understand what the fuss is all about.

We walk in silence to the cafeteria, where it's as noisy as can be. Riley, Jasper, and Charlotte Rose are already at a lunch table in the corner and they've saved our seats. Once we buy our lunches, we take our chairs at the round table.

Jasper looks at Rowdy with concern, like he's about to ask the same question I did earlier, so I shake my head slyly to warn him. _Don't say anything. Please._

Charlotte Rose is rambling about one of her teachers when she stops mid-sentence. "Oh. My. God."

I've never heard her use the Lord's name in vain. The remaining three of us turn our heads toward the cafeteria doorway as Jacob Black walks in, the three Weber girls sashaying behind him.

He looks … bad. Not bad as in sickly bad, but bad as in he's got a leather jacket on and his hair's all gelled and he's grown several inches. He's much taller than the last time I saw him at my house earlier that summer. But the worst part of all is that the Weber girls are eating it up. They're hanging all over him, dressed in slutty clothes I know the Reverend would never approve of.

"Turn around," I hiss to everybody. "Don't look their way!"

It's too late. Jacob spots our table and strolls towards us, one book that I'm sure he'll never crack open tucked under his arm.

"What's up?" he says all smoothly, narrowing his eyes. He frowns at Rowdy and I, whose hands are held together on Rowdy's lap.

"Fuck off, Jacob!" Rowdy growls, not even trying to keep the peace.

"Was I talking to you, Stilts? No!" Jake rolls his eyes and tries to engage in conversation with Riley, but Riley just stares at him. Angela giggles and gives me the middle finger, thinking no one notices.

Our table is too quiet. It's the kind of quiet that festers and I know some kind of anger is bubbling inside of Rowdy. He's already having a rough day and Jacob is just making it worse.

"It's good to see you, Cotton," Bree says all sweetly. "You and Rowdy look real cute together."

I'm surprised she's actually being nice, so I reply, "Thanks."

"Yeah," she continues. "I mean between you smelling like a gator's ass and Rowdy walking like a stupid chimpanzee, you make the perfect couple."

Charlotte Rose inhales sharply at Bree's snark, and Jacob laughs so hard he has to hold his stomach. Rowdy lets go of my hand and in slow motion he stands up.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here." he seethes, his voice dripping with hatred and anger. I lightly touch his arm, telling him to calm down.

"You should have heard him reading in class when Mrs. Tanner called on him," Victoria adds, ignoring him. "T-t-t-he U-u-ni-i-t-ted S-t-t-tates of An-t-t-ar-tica … It's America, dumbass!"

The four of them double over, mocking and making fun of Rowdy. Rowdy's face is bright red and his fists are balled up so tightly, his knuckles are turning white.

I slam my lunch tray on the table and year old meatloaf goes splattering. "Why the hell are you so mean, huh? Why can't you just leave us alone?"

It's the wrong question to ask and Angela steps in front of me, breathing into my face. "Because you shit-faced Holy Roller, you got us grounded all summer. But guess what? Your rich little daddy ain't around to save your ass anymore. I'm going to make your life a living hell, Gator Girl!"

Rowdy holds up his fist and I'm pretty sure he's about to swing. Jacob grabs his arm and snarls. "I wish you would try, motherfucker. I'd kick your ass before you could even take a single step." He bends Rowdy's arm back so hard, Rowdy stumbles against the table. I try to keep Rowdy upright so that he doesn't fall and Jasper stands up, ready to throw down.

"Let's go ladies." Jacob throws his arm around two of the girls. They start walking but Jacob pauses and turns around. "Oh and Rowdy, I saw a couple of newspapers with your name on 'em from Rosedale. Just to let you know, I'm the fucking king of football around here. The only balls you'll be tossing this year are your own, Cripple."

Their group strolls away laughing and Rowdy looks like he's about to explode.

"Rowdy?" I touch his arm lightly, but he snatches it away.

"I've got to get the fuck out of here!" Rowdy grabs his backpack from the floor and leaves, nearly tripping over the chair. I can tell he's in severe pain as he stumbles away. I try to call out to him, but Jasper stops me.

"Don't Cotton," he says. "You can't reason with him when he's like this. Just give him some room to breathe."

"Breathe?" I ask miraculously. "He needs me Jasper! I need to catch him before he does something he'll regret!"

"He ain't gonna do nothing. Rowdy needs time to cool down. Jacob doesn't even know what he's started."

I have no idea what he's talking about and Jasper sighs. "Cotton, Rowdy was the best damn football player I've ever seen. I'm not even saying that just 'cause he's my brother. He's good. I mean, _really_ good. Jacob wasn't lying. He was in the newspaper all the time and was the high school's number one running back. He was untouchable. But when he got sick…"

He trails off and I finish the rest for myself. _He lost a part of himself._

"You only know the sick Rowdy. But long ago, he was Edward Masen, football star. He can deal with them pushing him around and calling him crippled and even making fun of his reading. But the sports stuff? They messed up, Cotton. They messed up real bad. Now Rowdy's gonna act like he's got something to prove."

I frown because Rowdy can't prove anything. It's his first day without his arm braces and he's struggling as it is. I glance across the cafeteria, where Rowdy has finally made it to the doorway. He snatches a poster off of the wall, decorated with swirling designs the cheerleading team must have made.

Football tryouts.

I sigh as I realize there's nothing I can do. I tried giving encouragement and love and all the good stuff a girlfriend is supposed to give her boyfriend. But for my boy, he's not in the offering mood.

Today I learn something that neither scriptures nor Jasper can teach me.

Jacob Black is on a personal mission to destroy Rowdy.

I just wonder how long before I'm left to pick up the pieces.


	32. Chapter 32: Obstacles & Oh Fu-

_You guys trust me, right? Right? _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Two: Obstacles &amp; Oh Fu-<strong>

_One month later…_

Jasper blows his whistle and clicks the timer on his stopwatch.

"Time?" Rowdy wipes his forehead, but it's no use. He's dripping in sweat and his white shirt is soaked all the way through. Emmett passes him a water bottle, which he gulps down.

"45 seconds," Jasper replies.

"Damnit!" Rowdy tosses the bottle on the ground and bends over on his knees, huffing and puffing. It's the middle of September and I'm just happy the weather is getting slightly cooler. AJ, Charlotte Rose, and I sit on the ground, creating necklaces out of weeds. Emmett and Jessie take turns playing water boy for Rowdy, while it's Riley's duty to move the cones wherever Rowdy directs him.

"That's quicker than before," Riley says, patting Rowdy on the back. "You're moving good, man. It's seven seconds faster than the last run."

"Would have been more if AJ hadn't tripped you," Charlotte Rose adds.

AJ punches her in the arm. "I was trying to create obstacles!"

"That shit was jogging. I can't even consider that running! Coach Jenks isn't gonna let me play if I don't speed up. I'll get killed out there." Rowdy groans like it's the end of the world and places both hands on the back of his head. He's stressed out and putting way too much pressure on himself.

"You made the team, Rowdy," I encourage him, twisting the dead piece of grass into a knot. "Ain't that enough?"

"I'm sidelined, Cotton," he explains, wringing out his shirt. I know I'm supposed to be supportive and all, but I can't focus when his abs peek out from underneath his shirt. I don't think I've ever seen someone work so hard in such a short period of time. Between his personal workouts and seeing his physical therapist, Garrett, every day after school, Rowdy's made amazing progress. He's even running. He just keeps pushing himself and pushing himself. On one hand, I'm proud of him.

On the other, I'm worried he's stressing his body too much.

"What's sidelined mean?" Jessie asks, sucking on a strand of grass. I knock it out of her mouth. _Gross. _Does she even realize how many crickets have pooped on that?

Six, at the very least.

"Means the coach thinks he's too risky to play 'cause of his illness." Riley's on the team too, but he only tried out just to hang out with Rowdy. He could care less about the sport, but he's a damn good friend.

"I'm a filler, Jessie. The coach only gave me a jersey just to complete the team roster."

"Don't say that!" Jessie runs to Rowdy and hugs his waist. "You just keep doing your best. My teacher, Mrs. Benjamin, says that you haven't failed until you stop trying. So don't be a filler failure. You keep running and throwing that ball and one day, I'll be the dead person on the back of the plane, loving you no matter what."

AJ and the rest of 'em have no idea what Jessie's talking about, but Rowdy and I do. He lifts up my younger sister, smothering her with kisses. She bursts into a fit of giggles, screaming because Rowdy's soaked her in his sweat.

"You know what, Jessie?" he says, grinning ear to ear. "I will keep trying and eventually I'm going to make a touchdown. I'm gonna cross that line and point at you in the stands and I'm gonna scream, 'Baby Jesus loves you' as loud as I can, all for you."

"You'd do that?" she asks in awe.

"You know it!" He sets her down on the dirt road and claps his hands together, jumping side to side. "All right, Riley. Move those cones back two more feet. 45 seconds ain't shit. Let's aim for 30!"

Jasper resets his timer, Emmett plops down in the grass and digs in his nose, and I cheer my baby on.

_You can do this, Rowdy._

_You have to._

.

.

.

"Class, I want you to remember that this is not free time to chit chat. Your research on the French Revolution counts for 30 percent of your grade. Use your time wisely and search for the materials you need. Look at your rubric for details, but I want you using at least three sources. There's to be no slacking around. Ask me or the librarian if you need help. And be quiet. There's eleventh graders in here for their free or study period, and I don't want you interrupting them. Everyone understand?"

The class nods and scatters about the library, looking for resources for our report. Charlotte Rose walks beside me, gently touching the dusty books in the nonfiction section.

"What's your topic?" she asks, pulling out an unrelated book and flipping through the pages.

"Louis XVI and his great beheading," I answer, grinning.

"You would," she grimaces, wrinkling her nose. "I'm going to write about the three social estates during that time. The nobles and clergies and all of that."

"Playing it safe?" I grin, nudging her with my elbow as we move through the bookshelves.

"I have to. I bombed the last test. If I get a C in this class, Mama will kill me." Charlotte sulks and I feel awful. I passed with flying colors, but only because I have a system: remember the term and one key word of its definition. My method hasn't failed me yet. Sure, I've learned absolutely nothing, but I have an A and that's what matters.

We take turns glancing at encyclopedias at the edge of the library when Charlotte pulls out a thick leather-bound book. She peeks through the shelf and nudges me.

"Hey," she whispers. "Look who it is."

I peek through the gaping hole and see Bree and Angela Weber talking on the other side where the lounge study chairs are. They play with their dark red colored hair with their legs propped up on the wooden table.

"What are they saying?"

"Shhhh!" Charlotte puts a finger to her lips to quiet me as she removes another book. They don't see us, and I pray on everything they don't look this way. Four eyeballs staring through a shelf is sure to be noticed.

"Did you fuck him yet?" Angela doesn't even try to lower her voice and Bree pushes her playfully.

"A little louder, will you?" Bree pretends to be offended, but she's laughing. "Yeah, I did."

"And?" Angela raises her eyebrow, ready for gossip.

"He's got a huge cock and everything. We did it right on top of his motorcycle."

Charlotte Rose gasps. There's only person in Forks County that we know of who owns a motorcycle now that he's gone rogue.

"You're not upset, are you?" I whisper to her. Charlotte's always had a thing for Jake and even though I can't stand him, I wouldn't stand in the way of my best friend's happiness.

"Are you kidding? He's such a jerk-face now. I'm glad we never dated. He's rude, Cotton, and he acted all mean to you and Rowdy. I could never like someone like that."

"Thanks," I murmur as we turn back and continue listening.

The two Webers giggle as Bree keeps talking. "I mean, have you seen him lately? He's fuck shit poor, but he's actually starting to look hot."

"I can't believe he's dating nasty Gator Girl!" Angela exclaims. "She's so prissy, walking around here in fucking dresses and boots! '_Look at me in my Dior clothes my church-shouting ma bought for a million dollars!_' What-the-fuck-ever! I bet they aren't even real."

"You know they aren't," Bree agrees. "'Sides, once Rowdy figures out what a loser she is, he'll dump her stuck-up ass."

My eyes start to water. I can't help it. I know they're lying through their teeth, but their words hurt. Was I around Rowdy too much to see how he's changed?

He is walking straighter, prouder even.

And when we're at lunch, sometimes a football player or two comes over to sit with him.

Plus he _is _getting hot. I mean, he always was, no doubt about that. But between the new clothes, the way he wears his hair, and how he's always clean, he looks like a different person than the one I met months ago.

Were the Webers right? Was Rowdy moving up some social chain I was unaware of?

"Charlotte? Cotton?"

Mrs. Banner says our names and we jump at the same time. We quickly turn around, stuffing our books back on the shelf. "Can you two run to the classroom and get the class topic list from my desk? Mike needs help and I can't remember for the life of me if I assigned him Napoleon's biography or the Napoleonic Code."

We smile brightly. "Sure thing.

I groan, wishing I could hear the rest of the Weber's conversation, but I guess I'll never know. We walk out of the library, down the hall, and up the stairs to the second floor.

"You know they're just jealous of you, right?" Charlotte Rose says as we turn the corner.

"I don't even care," I lie. "Rowdy's with me and they'll get over it."

"See? That's the spirit," she says cheerfully.

We're almost to the end of the corridor when we hear a loud bang. We freeze in our steps. "What was that?"

We hear it again and Charlotte grabs my hand, leading me to a closed door on the right side of the empty hall. There's a loud, "Fuck!" and I point to the door. I'd know that dirty mouth anywhere. "That's Rowdy!"

Charlotte goes to twist the handle, but I stop her hand. "What are you doing? You can't just walk in the middle of a class!"

She lets go of the door as we press our ears against it. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

It's Rowdy's voice for sure. Something large scrapes against the linoleum floor.

"I'm putting that shit in deep, you hear me, Angela? No more fucking around."

I hear a noisy moan and it's definitely Angela Weber. My hand flies to my mouth in shock.

There's louder scraping, a continuous thumping, and my eyes water.

"We can't … she'll … find out," Angela's voice is breathless and broken into spurts.

"You're thinkin' about that bitch at a time like this? Spread those legs open. Wider…" There's another bang and I don't think I can stand much longer. My knees start to buckle as they continue. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I listen to my gorgeous, dirty liar.

"Look at you," Rowdy growls. "This was your fucking idea and you can't even handle it. Get that thing wet, girl…"

That's all it takes and I go down, down, down. My stomach hurts so bad that it burns. I feel sick and I swear I'm going to puke. Charlotte Rose is around me, near me, touching me in an attempt to comfort, but I can't see her at all.

"Don't stop, Rowdy!" Angela cries as the thumping continues.

Listening to her say my boy's name drives me to a crazed insanity. My vision is blurry and I just want to cry, die, and wither away.

"How could he?" I sob, wiping snot onto my hand. "I loved him, Rose. I did. I gave up everything! Why? Why me?"

My best friend tries to hug me as Angela half-screams. It makes my skin crawl, and I feel so indescribably hurt I cannot speak. My jaw aches and my eyes sting as my heart throbs with agonizing pain.

"Fuck!" Rowdy yells and it's like I can hear the vibration in my ears. Charlotte begs me to move, but I can't. I just can't.

Somewhere deep, deep down, I need to just be still. I need to replay the last few moments in my head and pretend they aren't real.

I lean back to thump my head against the door when it suddenly flies open.

"Cotton?"

I glance up with a tear-streaked face as Rowdy buckles his pants.

He glances at me and then back at Angela and then again at his buckle. He groans. "Fuck. Listen, Cotton, I…"

I stand up, shoving him into the classroom. He practically stumbles onto his whore.

"Fuck is right," I glare, pushing him again. "And you gave zero of them today. Or maybe one, it looks like. Damn you, Rowdy. I am over your shit. Done! I don't want to ever, ever, ever, see you again. _Ever_."

He reaches out for me when his wallet falls out of his pocket.

A single condom slips out and slides onto the floor.

All I can do is laugh.

It figures.

Rowdy turned my life upside down and just when he's back to walking, he knocks me right off of my feet.


	33. Chapter 33: Expectations & Explanations

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Expectations & Explanations**

I'm in a can't-eat, can't-sleep, don't-feel-like-breathing state of mind.

I run out of school so fast Charlotte Rose can't catch me. I hear Rowdy's voice screaming behind me, but I don't care. I cry violently, my eyelashes sticking together in clumps. My devastation is replicated on my blotched, mottled skin that's tainted with his betrayal.

My boots hit the pavement, my dress flying up behind me. If I could disappear, right here, right now I would. But life isn't like that; it pushes you to keep going and keeps your heart pounding.

I run like the world doesn't need me, like I'm nothing in this infinite amount of space. Trees whizz by and I want to be them. I want to stand there as they do and have the wind whisper through me. I don't want to be this gaping, open wound that oozes my misery with every step I take. Dirt spreads out underneath my feet as I find my grounding on a road I don't recognize.

It's then that my knees buckle.

I don't know where they come from—the choking sob or the vomit that spews from my mouth. Anything I've eaten in the past two days comes rushing from the pit of my belly, taking my heart, love, and dreams with it. My knees land on little pebbles that dig into my skin, leaving small, reddened circles as their penetrating evidence.

"Fuck!" I sob, suffocating on my own air. I cough up dribbles of spit, brown remainders of my puke dripping from my bottom lip. Gagging, I attempt to hurl up anything else, but my stomach is empty. It's the reflection of my soul and I feel sick, sick, sick.

I give up as my tongue runs over my dry, cracked lips. I give up trying to stand, trying to keep moving. My body collapses onto the ground, the dirt coating my dress in layers.

"_So I suffer to make you happy?" he asks. _

_I stutter because that's not what I meant._

_Rowdy's hand squeezes mine. "Then it's worth it."_

Love shouldn't feel like this. It shouldn't be some painful, agonizing, grieving entity that makes one person hurt for another. It shouldn't feel like someone is ripping me and pulling me apart with their bare hands. It shouldn't make my tongue swell in my mouth, or make me feel as if everything is nothing.

Love isn't some unimaginable, string-tugging, soul-crushing, bittersweet devotion a girl should feel for a boy. I'm so dumb. I'm so stupidly blind and naïve to love him.

Love is hard.

Falling was the easy part.

Love crushes, wrapping around you like a snake, smothering you until you can no longer breathe.

Love is an Angela-fucker.

My heart crumbles into pieces as I wrap my arms around my shivering body. My pain intensifies each second and it is jarringly brutal. I let soft kisses, loud laughter, cursing lips, and mossy green eyes flicker through my mind as I fall asleep.

I don't plan on waking up.

.

.

.

"Bella!"

"Bella!"

I blink my eyes in the darkness, but a bright light shines somewhere through the patch of trees.

"AnnaBella Rain!"

My face sticks to the earth, but I don't have the strength to attempt to move. The husky voice calls out for me, echoing through the night.

I close my eyes again, and the sound of my thumping heart is the only reminder that time is actually passing me by. I curl myself into a ball, silently pleading for the voice to go away.

"Bella! Shit!" Feet run towards me and a warm body kneels beside me. "Bella, wake up! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

I'm not okay. I'll _never_ be okay. I hurt in waves that continuously crash over me, drowning me so that I sink into a nonexistent void.

My eyelids flutter and I see blurred images of Jacob Black hovering over me. He reaches his muscular arms underneath me so that I'm cradled against his chest.

"I'm here, Bella. I'll get you help. You've got all of Forks County looking for you!"

"No!" I choke out, my raw voice clawing at my throat. "Don't. I can't. Please. I can't see anyone right now."

It's not until I fully focus on the moon that I realize how late it truly must be. The drabness of the day has escaped me, but it's the hazy black night that reminds me nothing has changed. The star speckled sky can't illuminate the hole I feel in my gut. Jacob holds me closer, his warmth covering my goose bumps in the chilled air.

"But your mother-" he attempts to explain and I cut him off with a moan that escapes me.

"I can't," I whisper. "Please. Just let me lie back down."

Jacob ignores me, running through the trees to another road where his motorcycle sits. I feel his labored breaths as he sprints past the last branch that scrapes against his leg. His gleaming black motorcycle leans on its kickstand, tilting slightly to the left.

I see it and I try to argue with him, but he shushes me.

"I'm taking you to my house."

And even though I hate Jacob with more passion than any one person should hate another, there's someone worse in this world than he is.

He props me on the motorcycle and with weak arms, I hold on to him, gripping his leather jacket.

.

.

.

The blanket is itchy, but it's warm and comfortable as Jake passes me a mug of hot tea. I sip it slowly, the heat rising over my face. He takes off my boots, tucking my feet back under the thick layer.

"Where's Billy?"

I glance around the small living room that's decorated in shades of browns and greens. It's obvious two males live here and leftover plates with random bits of food are piled on top of the table.

Jake shrugs. "Probably getting shit-faced drunk. I don't know. He's rarely home anymore."

I hum, not answering. The last thing I need right now is Billy walking in. He and Papa have yet to make up and I don't see it happening anytime soon. It's a scene I want to avoid.

Jacob presses a damp washcloth to my face, trying to wipe off the grime. I move slightly to the right, avoiding his touch. "I don't want it. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, Bella." He pauses when I wince at my name. He knows how much I hate it. "Your face is dirty, your hair is all over the place. What were you gonna do? Lie out there all night?"

I put the cup down, budging an old magazine out of the way. "Maybe."

"I told you not to mess with Masen," he says bitterly. "What did I tell you, Cotton? You never fucking listen. Angela's bragging all over school how she slept with him."

"Stop."

Jacob tosses the washcloth down in anger. "No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. I told you I'd be good to you! What did you do? You threw that shit in my face, flaunting yourself all over town with him. I had to watch that y'all all summer long and did you care? No! You never gave a shit about me, Bella!"

"You're so fucking cocky, Jake! You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed we'd be together. You messed with Papa's stuff and you cost him money! Why would I want to be with someone like that?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Jacob rises from his seat, pacing back and forth. "We had a good thing! I knew you weren't into me, but I figured you would be over time. I'd make you fall in love with me and then we'd, I don't know, getting married or something one day. But then those Masens came into town. Carlisle and his wife showed up at the gator shop and they wouldn't stop bragging about their three sons. But their oldest? They made it seem like that motherfucker walked on water. I walked out to the boat and there he was, sitting in the seat of their truck. I already knew, Bella. Once you two met, it would be over for me. I had to do something. So I hatched up a plan to ruin Charlie's shit and he'd blame it on the new kids in town. It almost worked."

"Almost," I mutter cynically.

"I did it for you, Bella. The Weber girls, they didn't give a shit anyways. They'd help me and Dad was all for it. He just said to make sure we didn't get caught."

"Billy doesn't care about you loving me, Jake. He just wanted to own Papa's business. Don't you see that?"

"Maybe so," he sighs. "I just … I didn't want things to turn out like this. And look at you now, crying over that lying cheater. I told you not to come running to me when he broke your heart, but here we are."

His words make a fresh set of tears stream down my face. I taste the salt between my lips and feel them running down my flushed cheeks. "Hush, Jake. I didn't come running to you. You found me. It's not the same thing."

"It's not?" Jacob kneels in front on me on the hardwood floor, taking my hands into his. "You didn't have to come with me. What does that tell you?"

I blink, my eyes red, wet, and puffy. A heavy weight in my chest travels to my throat, causing me to swallow. "It tells you I'm in a weak position right now and you're trying to take advantage of it."

"No, Bella, it tells you I'm going to always be here for you. It tells you I'm the best damn thing that ever happened to you. I know what you see." He glances down at his black shirt and jeans scuffed with holes. "You think I'm some hard-ass who fucks around with those Webers. They ain't shit compared to you. I'd treat you right. You're my sun. Burn for me, Bella. Only for me."

"_It's like telling the moon to moon. It can't. But you can tell it to glow. And that's what you're doing, glowing all around me."_

"_I'd rather be the sun."_

"_Naw," Rowdy answers, strumming his fingers down my belly. "The sun's too hot. But see, the moon has these craters…"_

Jake lifts my face gently with his hands. I feel callouses, the roughness that comes from working. I move my chin, but he pulls me back.

He's quick, but I'm even quicker. I push away his body with my hands as he leans forward in an attempt to kiss me.

I hate, hate, hate him. I find the strength to stand up as a door squeaks, shutting closed as it bounces several times.

I gasp, expecting Billy to give me a good lashing for being in his home.

It's not him, not by a long-shot.

With the moon glowing behind him through the screen door, Rowdy stands at the entrance, mouth open and hands balled into fists.

.

.

.

**Rowdy POV**

_Earlier that day…_

"Mr. Masen, are you listening to me?" Mrs. Meyers glares at me from the front of the classroom, spatula in hand.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then what did I just say?"

_Shit. _I have no idea. I was too busy daydreaming about my girl again, wondering if I could convince her to make-out with me in the janitor's closet.

Or maybe more.

Now that she's on birth control, I can't wait to love on her every single day. We'd be attached at the hip if fate would allow it, but considering how tough football season is going, I've been too caught up.

"Mr. Masen," Mrs. Meyers points that fucking flipper at me, glaring. "This assignment counts for a large portion of your grade. If you want to pass home ec, I suggest you start listening and quit fooling around."

I tap my pencil on the table, waiting for her to finish. The teachers around here love degrading me, acting like I'm not worth anything, but they're wrong. I know shit, but I just don't show it. I think it's all that damn medicine I was on.

Angela whispers underneath her breath, "Add rosemary and lemon for flavor."

I clear my throat. "I was listening. You said to add lemon and rosemary."

Mrs. Meyers hums, almost angry that I'm right and continues speaking. "Okay, and after that, you need to lightly coat the outside skin…"

I breathe a sigh of relief. I can't stand Angela Weber, but she just saved my ass. "Thanks."

"No problem." She grins and looks forward, taking notes as the teacher continues talking.

I can't understand why she just helped me. I don't hate a lot of people in this world, but I despise anyone who messes with my Cottonseed. And Angela is the worst of the worst.

I lean back in the chair as Mrs. Meyers finishes up. "And so your partners for this assignment are as follows: Sam and Michael, Tyler and Erica Lee, Edward and Angela…"

My eyes lift up in shock. "Mrs. Meyers, I need a different partner. This ain't gonna work for me."

"And may I ask why not?"

'_Cause Angela is a bitch. And she is the shit on the bottom of my shoe. And 'cause I don't want to have to look at her tiny ass skirt airing her nasty shit any longer than I have to._

"We don't get along," I answer honestly.

"Well, Mr. Masen, since she just gave you the answer to the last question I asked, I suggest you try and make it work."

_Damn it! _Angela snickers and scoots her chair closer to mine, twirling her hair around her finger. I hate it when girls do that shit, like its cute.

"Oh, come on!" Angela playfully slaps her clammy hand on my arm. "What did I ever do to you?"

I narrow my eyes, glaring at her. "You're fucking kidding, right?"

Angela crosses her legs and leans toward me. "Let's let bygones be bygones. 'Sides, I don't think you're that bad, Rowdy. Kinda hot, even."

She grins, her wide smile tainted by lipstick stains on her teeth.

"Don't even try that shit, Angela. You know I'm with my girl." I don't know what she's trying to pull, but I'm not falling for it. I shove her cold hand off of my arm and reach for the recipes that are being passed around the room.

"Stuffed chicken?" Angela asks, scanning the paper. "Seriously?"

I'm secretly thankful she's reading it because the words are nothing but a blur to me. My baby often tries to get me reading, but we get so distracted…

I grin, thinking of her. Cotton's the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. I miss her legs being wrapped around my waist, and how she giggles when she curses, and how she wears those silly boots she loves so much.

She's everything to me. I've never loved before, but with her, it's different. That girl has me wrapped around her delicate little finger. She's devoted too, something these girls around her know nothing about. She's stuck by me through thick and thin. One of these days, I'm going to pay her back.

With a ring.

I'm going to marry that girl if it's the last thing I do. And maybe I'm too young to be thinking about shit like that, but I can't help it. When I finally get myself back to normal, I'm going to the NFL and treating my baby to everything she deserves. She's done so much I can never fully pay her back, but I'm going to try my damnedest.

"Hello?" Angela waves her hands in front of me. "Earth to Rowdy."

"Sorry," I mumble. We walk to the front of the class, taking the baking pan and chicken that's been laid out for us. Everything else is located in one of the three refrigerators or cabinets that circle the room. Angela and I are stuck with station number one, the closest to the door, with the stove that only works half the time.

She makes a big presentation of bending over to reach the mixing bowls on the lower shelf. I turn around, unwrapping the chicken and washing it in the sink. When Angela realizes that I'm not paying any attention, she huffs and starts pouring ingredients for the herbed marinade in a bowl.

"You know," she begins, measuring cups of olive oil. "I'm surprised you're dating Gator Girl. She doesn't seem like your type."

I roll my eyes. "You call her that again and this conversation is over."

"Sorry," she says, but I can tell she's really not. "But I just don't get it."

"You ain't supposed to." I yank out the insides of the poultry, grimacing the whole time. Reaching into a chicken's ass was not how I expected today to go.

"But why? What does she have that I don't?"

"Oh, I don't know," I remark sarcastically. "Class, beauty, a fucking heart. You're too self-absorbed. You've looked at your reflection in the glass more times in five minutes than I do in a day. Cotton ain't like that. She's sweet and kind and I love her. So quit trying and stir the damn lemon juice in."

For the first time ever, Angela actually looks hurt. "I'm not always mean. But sometimes Bree and Victoria-"

I cut her off, holding up two hands covered in chicken grime. "Seriously, you're blaming your kinfolk for your actions? Grow up, Angela!"

Turning in disgust, I refuse to speak to her for the remainder of the extended period. She keeps trying though, touching me when I don't want her to, or laughing hard so her boobs bounce. She's sick.

I sit at the table while the chicken cooks, trying to complete the worksheet for the written portion of the assignment. I don't understand a single question. Angela disappeared after she gave an excuse for the bathroom over 15 minutes ago. I hope she falls in and gets flushed like the shit she is.

"Mrs. Meyers! Something's burning!" Mike yells from station two and I laugh, hoping someone is actually doing worse than I am.

I snort as I glance up, but he's pointing to our area. I curse, running to the oven and jerking it open. A billow of smoke comes out just as Mrs. Meyers walks over.

"Edward, is everything all right?"

I nod, turning the knob to the off position and slamming the door shut. "It's fine. Just fine." I cough, waving my arm in front of me. "I turned the oven too high, but it's not even close to being done."

"Okay. Just make sure it's not on higher than 350. That oven is an older one. I'd hate for you to burn your chicken and fail."

"Nope." I plaster a fake grin on my face as she starts to turn away. "It's looking great."

I breathe a sigh of relief when Tyler calls for her attention on the other side of the large room. I open the oven and use oven mitts to pull out the pan.

Sure enough, that shit is burnt to a crisp.

"Fuck!" I curse just as Angela comes back.

"What's wrong?"

I leave the chicken on the open oven door so no one notices. "Where the hell have you been? This shit is burnt to pieces!"

"I was only gone for a few." She glances down and I notice her twisted skirt and disheveled hair. Her lip gloss is smudged and the glitter is all over her face.

_What a whore._

"We're going to fail, Angela! If I have to take this class my senior year, I'm going to fucking kill myself!"

I throw the mitts down.

"Calm down. There's got to be something we can do." She taps her foot, thinking. "Can't we just make another one?"

I stare at her in anger. "That's all you've got? Make another one? There are no more! There was only enough for each group."

Angela gets a wide grin on her face. "Not here, maybe, but I bet they have some in the cafeteria. We recook the chicken and turn that one in. Besides, she won't grade them until the end of the day. We're supposed to wrap them in foil and write our names on it. If we stick this one in the fridge and come back later, she'll never know."

I grin, actually agreeing with her crazy idea. "Good thinking. I'm in."

"Meet you back here during fourth period? I've got a study period then."

I'm actually supposed to be in chemistry, but fuck that. I've got a C in there. It's a low C, but a C nonetheless.

"Let's do it."

"Yes," Angela smirks, pressing her chest against my arm. "Let's."

.

.

.

Right before I'm supposed to be in chemistry, I lean against the locker next to Cotton's as she comes bouncing down the hall. She's so fucking cute and her boots squeak against the linoleum floor. She grins when she sees me, and I fall more in love with her every damn time.

"Cottonseed." I wrap my arm around her shoulder, kissing the side of her neck. She loves it when I do that. I bet if I reached under her dress, she'd be wet as fuck. My girl does things that drive me insane, but it works both ways.

"Cut it out," she giggles. "I've got to hurry to class."

"You don't need class. You're smart enough as it is. Why don't you just run away with me?"

She slaps me on my chest. It's firmer than it used to be and I almost feel like my old self. I've been training like crazy and it's paying off.

"Really?" Cotton looks at me with wide brown eyes that I often find myself drowning in.

She's crazy beautiful, and I know she'd do anything to make me happy.

"I'm kidding. But eventually, Cottonseed, I'm going to marry your cute, little ass." I give her bottom a squeeze and she swats me away.

_She fucking loves it._

"I'll be the one in white," she breathes, and I can't help myself. Even though we're in the middle of the hall on the second floor, I have to kiss her. She's my heart and my love and I need to taste her. Our lips connect and our tongues dart in and out of each other's mouths. I bite her bottom lip and press her back into the lockers.

My jeans grind against her center and I can practically feel myself inside of her.

It makes me groan, just thinking about it.

She's easy-lovin', heart-thumping, soft-kisses sweet.

I love my girl.

She pulls back first, breathless and grinning like I'm her world. "I've got to go, Rowdy. You're gonna make me late."

I pout and pretend to be offended.

"Oh stop it, you!" Cotton giggles. "Damn you and your pretty eyelashes."

I kiss her forehead and throw my arm around her shoulders. Several people greet me as we walk, giving high fives and pats on the back. The other players on the football team shout my name as I pass by and I give them the middle finger, which they laugh at. I don't get to play like they do, but they've seen me work my ass off and they respect it.

I pause at the doorway of Cotton's history class, but the other students are lined up at the door.

"Oh fiddlesticks!" she groans. "What kind of crap are we doing today?"

I smile at her innocent words and kiss her on the cheek. "I don't know, but you better be thinking about me."

"You know I will. Rowdy and Cotton, remember?" She raises her eyebrow, thinking of our names I carved into the town fountain.

"Forever."

.

.

.

I've scrambled like crazy, getting a chicken from the cafeteria. I couldn't exactly steal the poultry since the lunch ladies were preparing lunch, but I charmed them into giving me the last one in their walk-in fridge. It's way fucking bigger than the one we had. I hope it shrinks after baking it.

I run upstairs, tossing the burnt chicken into the trash and stuffing it under a load of papers and bottles. Angela's not up here yet, so I prepare the marinade, trying to remember the recipe. I taste it on my tongue. It's a little off, but it'll have to do. Ten minutes later, Angela's ass still isn't up here.

She's such a lazy bitch. I swear, I will write my name on that shit and walk away, but that wouldn't be fair. I'm not that much of an ass, especially since she read the recipe to me.

I try putting the pan into the oven, but it won't fit.

I do not have time for this.

I'm pretty sure Angela knows how to work this thing, so I go looking for her. I remember her telling me she had a study period. Most students hang out in the library, so I go searching there first. It's packed with what looks like tenth graders, their heads buried in books. Noticing her sitting with Bree, I wave at her from the entrance.

She looks at her watch and I can practically hear her cursing.

She forgot.

Of course.

She races across the library.

"Fuck, Angela! You said you'd meet me upstairs!"

"I know, I'm sorry." She heads for the stairs, but we don't have time. If that chicken doesn't get in the oven within the next five minutes, we're screwed. I've timed it exactly so that by the time Mrs. Meyers' planning time and lunch period are over, we can put the chicken in the fridge.

I grab her arm roughly, turning left. "Forget the stairs. Let's take the elevator."

It opens right away and we make our way up to the third floor, hearts pounding the whole way.

We sprint to the classroom and I explain my predicament. "I've already prepared it, but it's bigger than the ones we got in class. I can't get it in."

"You have to adjust the oven shelves," she responds, taking out a rack and moving it lower.

We both try to put the pan in, but it's not working. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

I panic, hoping I can push it hard, but it won't budge. The chicken is as big as a fucking turkey.

"Maybe we should just take the F," she sighs, breathing hard.

"Are you kidding me?" I hiss. "Try harder. I'm putting that shit in deep, you hear me, Angela? No more fucking around."

She's barely helping as it is.

Angela hears a noise outside and we pause for a second. No one enters, but it's makes us nervous.

"C'mon! Help me!" I groan. I officially hate this school and this oven, and especially Angela's lazy ass.

"We can't put it in. It won't fit. She'll fail us if she finds out!" Angela's voice is breathless as she finally shoves as hard as she can with me.

I realize the legs of the chicken are sticking up and getting caught on the rack.

"You're thinkin' about that bitch at a time like this? Spread those legs open. Wider…" Angela holds the legs down while I shove extremely hard. My belt digs into my stomach and I take it off, tossing it onto the floor. The button of my used jeans pops open, but I don't even bother with it.

This is beyond ridiculous.

Now the damn marinade is rubbing off. I hand Angela the bowl so she can reapply the mixture. She stands there, gaping at me in confusion.

"Look at you," I growl at her. "This was your fucking idea and you can't even handle it. Get that thing wet, girl…"

She applies the marinade and we push, push, push until it's almost inside.

"Don't stop, Rowdy!" Angela cries as we keep shoving. The oven shakes because of our continuous momentum.

"Fuck!" I yell out loud.

That bastard is finally in.

_Hell to the yeah._

I may just pass this year after all.

"Let's get the heck out of here," I half-whisper. We toss everything into the dishwasher and afterwards, I fix my belt and jeans as I open the door.

The first thing I see is my baby.

"Cotton?"

She looks at me, with a tear-streaked face and red eyes.

I glance around, noticing what this looks like. I groan. _No, baby. No, no, no. I would never…_ "Fuck. Listen, Cotton, I…"

She shoves me and I feel pain run up and down my body. The look on her face hurts me to the core. I'm too shocked to speak as I almost fall into Angela.

"Fuck is right!" She glares, pushing me again. "And you gave zero of them today. Or maybe one, it looks like. Damn you, Rowdy. I am over your shit. Done! I don't want to ever, ever, ever, see you again. Ever."

My heart constricts in my chest, almost as if it's unsure if it should keep beating. I reach out for her. I need to explain. _Cotton Baby. Please, please, please. This isn't what it looks like. _The pain is undeniable and it's worse than any type of medical condition I have.

At that moment, my wallet falls and along with it, a condom from Jasper that Cotton doesn't know about.

She laughs, and it haunts me to my inner being. I die as she runs away.

Angela smirks, almost as if she's happy Cotton's gotten the wrong idea.

I'm going to lose my life, my world, my reason for living…

All over a fucking chicken.


	34. Chapter 34: Blows & Beliefs

_40 chaps and we'll be all done. Can you believe it?_

_Boy, how time flies…_

_Seems like just yesterday Cherry tried to Skype me naked and you threw chickens in a cockadoodle rage…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Four: Blows and Beliefs<strong>

_What is he doing here?_

Rowdy stands at the entrance of Jacob's house, and just the sight of him shatters me and sucks the air out of my lungs. It's more than suffering—it's an anguished feeling of hurt and betrayal that he will never understand. My hand firmly clutches the flowered fabric of my dress as I shut my eyes tightly.

_It's not real._

_He's not real._

"Cotton." His voice is low and his command makes me finally glance at him. It's too much. His eyes are blood-shot and hollow and they look as barren as I feel. He takes two steps forward and reaches out for me, but I flinch.

"Get out." My voice is no higher than a whisper, but he hears me and blinks. Jacob reacts, pushing me to the side.

"You heard her, motherfucker!" Jacob points toward the door. "Get the hell out of my house!"

Even though Jacob tried to kiss me, Rowdy's presence here is much more damaging. He comes for mercy and forgiveness, but I have none to give.

"Cotton," Rowdy says again, ignoring Jake. "You have to believe me. I didn't cheat on you. I would never do that."

How can he deny it? My brain swirls, a flood of thoughts going through it. Rowdy has never lied to me before, but I know what I heard; I know what I saw after that door opened.

His voice is eerily calm despite the tension in the room. Jacob laughs. "Nice try, Masen. Try telling that to Angela. Everyone in school heard all about your fucking in the home ec room. And Bella heard you herself. Don't try and save face after you've been caught. Too little, too late my friend."

Rowdy whips his head in Jacob's direction. "Will you shut the fuck up? This is none of your damn business. I'm talking to my girl!"

"Your girl?" Jacob laughs as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. "You should have thought of that before you were balls deep in Angela's pussy!"

There's a second of frozen silence, and I see Rowdy's eyes flicker. His face is unreadable; there's no anger or smirk or even a scowl, just a cold blank look I am unfamiliar with. He strides across the room on his long legs and before I can react, he pulls me behind him. The touch of his hand causes me to shiver.

Rowdy grabs the neck of Jacob's shirt, jerking him off of his feet. "You fucking piece of shit. You think I won't kick your ass? Try me."

Jacob's eyes narrow. "Do it, Stilts. I dare you to."

It's the only invitation Rowdy needs. He pulls his arm back, punching Jake in the face. The crack of fist hitting bone deafens my ears.

I cry out, reaching for him and nothing at all. "Rowdy! No!"

He punches him again and Jacob grabs his bloodied face. It's the wrong way to defend himself, and Rowdy hits him over and over. When Jacob finally falls to the floor, Rowdy hovers over him, yelling obscenities and kicking and punching simultaneously. "Am I Stilts now, motherfucker? Am I Stilts now?" He's in a trance, trapped in a place of anger and rage. I've never seen him like this and it's frightening—dangerous, even.

Jacob moans, holding his stomach, and I can't take it anymore. "Rowdy, stop! You're going to kill him!"

The sound of my voice makes Rowdy pause mid-air. He turns to me as I stand wide-eyed and shaken by his actions. He kicks Jacob one last time.

I'm horrified by Jacob's face, already swelling, bruised, and bleeding. He rolls in agony as Rowdy turns to me. "Let's go."

"I-" I don't even know what to say. I glance from him to Jacob and back to him.

"Now." His voice is harsh as he grabs my hand, leading me out the door and into the night. His father's Chevy sits in the driveway, next to Jake's motorcycle.

I didn't even know he could drive.

He opens the door for me and I debate getting in. Jake is an ass, but he needs medical attention. I'm sure Rowdy broke something. I'm not in a position to want to go anywhere with Rowdy.

"Cotton." He glares at me with a no-nonsense expression and I know I don't have a choice. He nearly picks me up, planting me on the worn leather seat. He slams the door and crosses over to the driver's side. After he climbs in and shuts the door, he starts the ignition in silence. The engine rumbles and I remain silent as he pulls away.

I stare out the window at the night sky. Rowdy doesn't speak, but grips the steering wheel tightly. I shake, but it's not from the cold. Rowdy turns on the heat and a hot blast of air hits me in the face.

He drives for a few miles and when I think he's taking me home, he pulls off on an abandoned road. I'm about to ask him what he's doing, but Rowdy breaks down.

His head hits the steering wheel as his arms cover his face. He's crying, the most agonizing wail I've ever heard. It hurts to hear him like this.

"Rowdy?" I barely touch his arm and he glances up, his face red with tears dripping down. Snot runs out of nose and he apologizes with broken words.

"I- I'm so sorry, Cot-ton. I-I was j-just trying to p-pass my class. I never … I-I never…"

I can barely understand what he's saying and it makes no sense. He doesn't deserve it, but something in me wants to reach out and hold him. I grab his grey hoodie, pulling him to me. He weeps harder as he lays his head on my shoulder.

He clenches the back of my dress, but I have no words to soothe him. There's nothing to say. He's sorry, but that doesn't make up for his actions. I rub his disheveled hair to comfort him, but that doesn't make what he did okay.

_It'll never be okay._

_You broke us_, I want to say._ You did this. Not me. You._

He sobs and I let him. I let him cry it all out; all the pain and heartache and misery he's caused. I let him cry out our memories and the love he threw away. I let him mourn, because I already have.

Rowdy finally pulls back, wiping his nose on his sleeve. It darkens as he takes a deep breath and dabs at the wetness he's left on my shoulder. "Sorry."

He's apologizing for soaking my clothes, but I don't care. There's a lot more ruined right now than a stupid dress. "It's fine." Rowdy sniffles and clears his throat, trying to regain his pride in the midst of his vulnerability.

"Cotton, I…"

I don't want to hear it. I know he's sorry, but I don't want to pay attention to his excuses. I turn my head to look out the window and he pulls my chin back toward him. "Will you listen, please?"

"Listen?" I cry in astonishment. "Are you kidding me? I _did_ listen! I heard you Rowdy! I heard you and Angela and what you were doing! I heard it all…"

My voice sounds angry, but it's only to mask my pain. Tears escape and I let them fall. There's no use in wiping them away. He needs to see what he's done.

"You think I would cheat on you?" He asks incredulously. "After all we've been through, you honestly think I would do that to you? You're my world, Cottonseed."

"Don't call me that," I say bitterly. "You don't get to call me that."

Rowdy groans in frustration. "Fuck!" He slides to my side of the truck and grabs both sides of my face. "I. Did. Not. Cheat. Angela and I … we had this project due … the damn chicken burned … and then the stove wouldn't work … we were shoving that bastard in … and then you saw us … I didn't cheat, baby."

His story is illogical. _What the heck does chicken have to do with this? _"Don't lie, Rowdy. What's done is done. If you could just take me home now, I-"

His lips crash against mine before I can stop them. Something in me makes me want to push him away, but I can't. He's magnetic, keeping me there, locked into his kiss. I don't know why I kiss him back, why I allow his tongue to wrap around mine, or why I let him push me against the corner of the window and the edge of the seat.

"If you think I would betray you, you haven't been listening." He reaches one hand around my head and holds me still as he peers into my eyes, my hair knotting around his fingers. "I would never, baby."

His kisses me again with full, wet lips. "Never."

"I would die before I hurt you." His tongue leaves a trail as he glides it across my cheek and down to my neck. _This is wrong, wrong, wrong_. I can't help it, but I moan. Rowdy whispers softly in my ear, "I would fucking kill myself."

He groans and his hands fumble, yanking down the strapless dress underneath my sweater. My bra comes down with it, my breasts bursting out. He sucks on one greedily, kiss-biting the nipple before doing the same to the other.

"I'd never do this to someone else." His tongue licks me, along my collarbone and up my neck. His hand glides underneath my dress and I can't find the willpower to say no.

I whimper as he pushes my panties to the side, rubbing me. "I belong to you, baby. Only you." I cry out as his fingers enter me, pumping as he rubs my swollen clit with his thumb. He continues to kiss my neck and I have no means of defense. I am trapped and I may never get out.

It's so stuffy and I feel claustrophobic. My hips rock against him, betraying everything that I believe. I breathe unevenly, huffing as I hear him unbuckle his belt with his other hand. A button snaps and a zipper is freed open.

"I'm yours, Cotton Baby." He glides his finger out of me to grab both of my legs. He yanks me down onto the leather seat, hovering over me. My leg hits against the shift and he pulls it around his waist.

My heart thumps as he adjusts himself. I feel his hardness along my thigh. He's close, close, close.

"Rowdy," I manage to exhale out. His lines himself up with my center and thrusts into me roughly. I scream at the invasion and my head knocks against the door. Rowdy places a supporting hand behind my head and plunges again. We are forehead against forehead, breathing breaths that don't belong to us.

"How many times have I said I love you?" He questions hoarsely. I grab the flesh on his arm as his moves his hips. If this is a reflection of our love, I'd rather go blind. I can't handle the hurt, the shreds of pieces he's taking with every thrust.

"How many times have I murmured that you're mine?" I can't respond. He's taking my strength and making it his own. He's making me feel light, like I'm in Heaven, when all I know is darkness and Hell.

"I told you that you were my heart…" He's desperate, trying to be a part _of _me when he's already _in _me. Each second that passes is another moment of forgiveness. Each plunge of him inside of me makes my sensibility waiver.

"_Fuck!" he groans to her. _It's fine.

"I whispered that you were my soul…" He loves me hard and I finally understand what he meant by "fucking." It's an all-consuming, sweat-dripping, push-push-push feeling that I crave. He brings me high and takes me low. He's everywhere and I can't breathe.

"_Get that thing wet, girl."_ It's all right.

"I proved that you were my life…" Rowdy pumps faster and I am soft-whimpers and steady-tears. I dig my nails into his arms as he carries me away. I drift into the Mississippi night, where the crickets chirp and the stars shine. He won't let me stay there as his eyes burn into mine.

"_Don't stop, Rowdy!" she screams._ I forgive, I forgive, and I forgive.

Push-pull. Push-pull. He love-fucks me deeply. I grip harder, my back arching toward him. My muscles quiver and I shake from a loss of control. I scream out his name, his love, his ability to make me feel merciful. He pounds against me with rapid speed. His zipper rubs against my thigh, scratching me like piercing knives.

I need the pain. I need it as he comes in me, filling me and holding himself there. He won't let me go and I don't want him to. Rowdy's nails make their pattern, crescent moon shapes that may never heal. He breathes heavily, kissing my open mouth.

"I told you the truth," he whispers with flushed cheeks. "Do you need to hear it one more time?"

I throb between my legs, aching and clenching around him.

I need to listen again and again.

.

.

.

He puffs on a cigarette, the cloud of smoke blowing into the dark sky. "…And that's when I opened the door. I swear, that's all. I have a filthy mouth and apparently it's come to bite me in the ass. That's the whole damn story."

I wrangle my hands, trying to soak up all of the details he's giving me. The story sounds downright ridiculous, but the way he speaks is nothing but truth.

My boy never lies.

"And the condom?" I ask. His come is between my thighs, making me sticky and wet. Just the thought of it makes me clench my legs together.

"Jasper's," he answers, pulling on the filter. "I found a box in his room. I thought I'd take one, just in case. I know you told me you were on birth control, but I thought it would be safer if we, ya know."

I nod. It's too late for that. It always is. We're teenagers, and our raging hormones cause us to act before we think.

Rowdy tosses the burning butt out of the window. "Cotton, I swear I would never do anything to hurt you. I don't care what that dipshit Jacob says. Or Angela. Folks are going to always tear us apart. You can't let them. You and I? We're all that matters. Fuck everybody else."

"But-" I interrupt, trying to get him to see that everything in our lives has tried to break us—the town, the church, our families, his illness … _everything_. We can't survive much else or we'll rupture into pieces and not even love can put us back together.

"No buts," he says harshly. "No more bullshit of trying to overcome and endure and all that. Let's just be, all right? Let's love and be love and move on."

He's bitter because of the circumstances, but I get what he means. He yearns for a simplicity the universe refuses to give us. I want it too, so bad it hurts.

"Love and be love," I repeat, and I feel like Jessie as I echo him.

Jessie.

_Crap._

"Oh!" I scramble and although I don't know what I'm reaching for, I'm reminded my family is out looking for me. "Ma and Papa! Oh, God. They are going to be so mad. So, so mad."

"They're worried like hell, but they ain't mad. I told 'em the truth. They understand."

I look at him in shock. "They actually believed you?"

He smirks at me. "Ma reminded Renee I can't cook for shit. And Charlie said something along the lines of you being a bit _dramatic_."

He laughs and I punch him on the shoulder. "Shut up."

"His words, not mine!" He grins, holding his hands up defensively. "But anyways, Charlotte Rose and I looked everywhere for you. She eventually had to go home, but she suggested Jacob and gave me directions to his house."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "You were already going to beat him up weren't you?"

Rowdy shrugs. "It's been a long time coming, but once I saw him try to kiss you it was a done deal."

"Yeah," I murmur. To be honest, Jacob deserved it. Maybe not as bad as Rowdy pummeled him, but his butt-kicking was well earned.

Rowdy leans his head back, staring off as his taps his fingers. "Cotton?"

"Hmm?" I'm in as much of a daze as he is but I turn to face him, propping one leg up on the seat.

"Why did you believe so easily?" He refuses to look at me, his breaths labored as his chest moves up and down. "I mean about Weber. After all we've gone through, I thought you'd have a little _faith_."

His blow hits me right in the gut. I'm all about believing; believing in God and goodness and kindness and how love wins above all. But when it came to him, my assurance in our relationship fell to the wayside.

It was too damn easy.

"I wasn't thinking," I say softly. "I just reacted. It's like … you know, when you…"

I can't get my words together. Nothing seems to justify my actions, but I need to explain. "You ever have something really good happen to you? I mean, _really _good? Not like Christmas gifts or whatever 'cause you expect it, but something out of the blue? That's you. You came into my life and I thought all this time I had everything: my family, my best friend, fancy pageants where I could dress up and be a princess … It was nothing, Rowdy. When you came along, I realized I could love deeper and love harder. But at a moment's notice, I knew we couldn't last. I wanted us to, I did. But there was Papa and Jake and then finding out you were sick. The whole damn world was against us. I figured, something's gotta give. Someday, God is going to take you away from me. I didn't know how, but I kept expecting it to happen. So when I heard you and Angela, I just accepted it. I already had too much, I told myself. Quit being so damn greedy..."

Rowdy reaches for my hand, but I take a deep breath and continue. "I do have faith, Rowdy. I have faith in us and I have faith in you. I just don't want to lose you. You're my better-than-Christmas-gift, first-dizzy-kiss, weak-in-the-knees love. You're my something really good."

"Damn, baby." Rowdy grabs me, pulling me close to him. "You're not losing me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Cottonseed. But don't you dare doubt us again, okay? My heart can't handle it."

He cradles me in his arms and I make a vow that I'll keep for the rest of our lives.

"Okay. I promise."


	35. Chapter 35: Formulators & Futures

_A huge thank you to WitchyVampireGirl for her Cotton Belt Rec on the site Robnation (dot. org)... I only had to pay half-price this time. And Cherry, 'cause she keeps secrets like nobody's business._

_Mia- You're my real life Rowdy._

_Readers- I love you like truck kisses and leather seat forgiveness._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Five: Formulators &amp; Futures<strong>

"…Happy Birthday Dear Jessie, Cotton, Rowdy … and Emmett in two more weeks, happy birthday to you!"

The four of us laugh over the gigantic cake, blowing out the gazillion candles. That's the thing about having big families—when it's one person's birthday, it's everyone's birthday. So since the four of us all have birthdays in March, our parents force us to celebrate together.

Emmett sticks his entire hand in the cake and stuffs it into his face, getting icing everywhere.

_Sigh._

Rowdy clears his throat and everyone stops clapping inside of the dining room. He passes a gurgling Harley Gene over to Esme. "Since we're all here together, I'd like to take the opportunity to tell Cotton Happy Birthday and that I love her. And with that love comes feelings I've never experienced. That is why I want to say, Cotton, I love you with all of my heart. I never thought I'd find someone like you, and now that I'm 17 and older and wiser, I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you…"

Rowdy drops to one knee and holds out a velvet covered black box. "AnnaBella Rain Cotton Swan, will you mar-"

I gasp and hold a hand to my open mouth.

"The hell she will!" Papa storms forward, smacking Rowdy on the black of the head. "Get your ass up, boy. She's 16, not 32!"

He lifts Rowdy up by the back of his shirt as Rowdy screams, "Ow!" and rubs the back of his head.

"Papa!" AJ runs towards us, pulling Papa away. "You're messing up the moment! Let him finish! Go on, Rowdy; ask my sister to marry you and stop sinning in your fornicating ways!"

"Yeah!" Jessie yells. "Quit formulatin'!"

Papa looks like he's about to explode, Ma tries to calm him down, Esme and Carlisle can't stop laughing, and Jessie calls the whole room a bunch of formulators.

Then to top it all off, Jasper tosses a handful of condoms into the air like confetti.

Happy freakin' birthday to me.

.

.

.

"Honestly, Charlie, we weren't that much older. Look at how happy they are!" Ma directs a look at us and Rowdy and I plaster on huge smiles.

"They're too young, Renee! And Rowdy just started working for me last month! How is he supposed to take care of my little girl? They're still in school!"

"I thought you said folks didn't need an education," Ma reminded him quietly.

"I meant … but they…" Papa is at a loss for words.

"Just hold on here." Reverend Weber stands in the living room, trying to calm the chaos. "Now my Bible says the Lord would rather have two people marry than for them to sin in lust …"

Papa glares at me and I blush. _Damn you, AJ_. I'm stealing my boots back the second I get a chance.

"And I, for one, would never disrespect the Lord, amen?"

Esme shouts amen and Carlisle squeezes her hand to shut her up.

"She's too young," Papa repeats bitterly. "Rowdy is still in school, he ain't got a place of his own, and that's my little girl."

I snap my fingers with glee. "Wait! My trust fund! You said I could have my trust fund when I got married. So…"

"Now, you listen here. This ain't what I meant!" Papa crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"You can't take it back, Charlie. That's what's written in the contract," Ma reminds him.

"And I played that last football game with the college scouts there," Rowdy adds. "They've already promised me a full scholarship and everything. I'll be playing ball and get drafted into the leagues no time. You know how good I am Charlie. You said so yourself."

Papa huffs as Reverend Weber begins quoting scripture. "First Corinthians, chapter seven, verse nine: But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn."

Jessie runs in from the kitchen when she's supposed to be upstairs playing. The adults are having a private conversation about the status of Rowdy and I's future, but she doesn't care.

Jessie hugs Papa with two arms, begging and pleading. "Don't let 'em burn, Papa. Rowdy said he was gonna teach me how to drive and Cotton tucks me in every night. If you don't let them marry, I'll cry Papa. I'll cry and I'll burn with 'em, 'cause I'm a formulator too! I formulate day and night. I formulate in the kitchen and I formulate in the bathtub-"

Even Papa can't hide the grin behind his mustache. "That's enough, Jessie."

Jessie runs and sits on Rowdy's lap, wrapping an arm around him. "Let 'em marry, Papa. I wanna be a flower girl. And I promise to eat all the taters you want. Please? "

Papa says he'll think about it.

At least he stopped chasing Rowdy around the yard with his rifle.

It's progress, at least.

.

.

.

Once we return to school after spring break, it finally sinks in how much has changed. Jacob Black moved to a different school. He's across town at Creek Bend High, and it's been much more peaceful. Seems like Billy's drinking took the best of him and they lost their house. In a way, I'm glad. That fall, after Jake and Rowdy got into that fight, Jake just gave us the stink eye every time he saw us. He never said anything, he just looked like he was cursing us out from a distance.

The Weber girls eventually got what came to them. After that rumor about Rowdy and Angela spread like wildfire, Reverend Weber heard it from Deacon Biers, who heard it from Riley. It wasn't true, of course, but the fact that a young lady was bragging about having sex in a classroom didn't sit well with the pastor.

They all dress in long sleeves and long denim skirts now, sulking about bitterly. One false move and he threatened to ship them to a boarding school. So, I just wait on the day when they'll eventually spread their skank elsewhere.

Life has definitely been calmer. I know Papa has yet to approve our impending engagement, but I'm ready. Rowdy is it for me. Ever since that dreadful day in September, it seems like our love has only grown stronger. I've learned to appreciate the ups and the downs, but with Rowdy it's been nothing but bliss.

My boy appears out of nowhere, plopping his tray on the table alongside Riley.

"Baby." He greets me and plants a kiss on my cheek before giving a high-five to Riley. "Did y'all hear about the cafeteria catastrophe?"

"No," we answer simultaneously.

"Yeah, so you know how today we were supposed to have chicken on rice instead of hamburgers?"

We all nod and Rowdy continues.

"So one of the lunch ladies cooked the chickens too long and they exploded. I heard the kitchen almost blew up. Can you believe it?" He holds his stomach and laughs while Jasper just shakes his head.

"Bro."

"Really, Rowdy?" Charlotte replies sarcastically.

"Too soon," I say. "It will always be too soon."

Rowdy's chuckles calm down and he gulps. "Sorry … I just … never mind."

We all groan at his attempt at humor and Rowdy changes the subject.

"Senior skip day is coming up. They're going to the river and cooking out and everything. Y'all wanna go?"

"None of us are seniors," Riley reminds him. "And if we skip class, we'll get caught."

_Thank you, deacon's son, for being the voice of reason._

"No, we won't." Rowdy digs into his backpack, pulling out half sheets of yellow paper. He passes them out to us and I flip it over in my hand.

"Forks Medical Center Visitation Excuse?" I read aloud. "How'd you get these?"

"Garrett," he grins, speaking of his physical therapist. "I have my medical papers I'm allowed to use all year, but these are for y'all. You can just say you were visiting me. They're legit. See? Garrett's already signed the bottom."

"I'm in," Jasper says immediately. "I need a break this Friday anyways. I've got two tests I'm not ready for."

"I don't know…" Charlotte Rose acts as if she's holding a burning Bible. "This wouldn't be right, us fibbing and all."

"I'm with her," Riley agrees.

Rowdy tilts back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Fine. Y'all stay here while my brother and I go lie out in the sun all day. We'll be swimming and eating hotdogs and having a good ol' time…"

He lets the thoughts sink into our head while Charlotte groans. "Swimming would be fun…"

"That's the spirit," Rowdy grins.

"And it_ is_ supposed to be a hot day," Riley chips in. I can practically see the wheels turning in his blond head.

I'm not one for swimming in murky waters, but I'm all about spending the day with Rowdy. "What time are we leaving?"

Rowdy laughs and kisses me on the cheek. "That's my girl!"

Charlotte Rose and Riley eventually cave, but there's a huge debate over who's driving. Riley and Rowdy get into an argument. Rowdy claims he's a better driver, but he doesn't even have a license. Carlisle just lets him take the truck whenever he pleases. Riley wins, but when Rowdy smirks, I know he hadn't lost at all.

It was his plan the entire time.

Sneaky, sneaky boy.

.

.

.

Seniors are noisy and obnoxious. They're everywhere and even though Chickamaw River stretches out across towns, it seems like it isn't big enough for them. The five of us set up a spot near the camping ground picnic tables as seniors start passing out beer from their coolers.

Riley was right—it's hot as the dickens out here and my sundress is already sticking to my chest and thighs. I let Charlotte Rose borrow an extra pair of my sunglasses as Jasper strips down to his swimming trunks.

"Y'all coming?" he asks, taking off his flip flops.

Riley is already running past him as Charlotte Rose shyly removes her t-shirt to reveal a one-piece bathing suit. She refuses to take off her shorts and begins to follow behind him.

"Cotton?"

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. "No thank you. I heard a school of killer piranhas ate a boy whole last year. I think I'll just work on my tan."

I don't know if it's true, but it's enough to keep me out of the water.

She laughs and calls me a scaredy-cat before chasing after Jasper.

Rowdy watches me as I slip off my dress to reveal a white bikini. He leans over and grabs my bottom before I get a chance to sit down on the towel with him. His skin is even darker than mine, and I love how it brings out his eyes. I can't help but notice how his long blue shorts accentuate _everything._

I sit down next to him and we lie back, basking in the sun. He pushes loose strands of hair back from my face and tucks them behind my ear.

"Are you glad you came?"

"Ugh, you have no idea," I groan dramatically. "I needed this. I'm so wrapped up in school I forget to breathe sometimes."

"That's what I'm here for," he grins. "To help you relax and take a break."

His fingers travel over the edge of my bikini top, skimming the fabric. I don't think he realizes what he does to me, how my chest rises and falls at the slightest touch.

"Cut that out," I murmur. "Someone will see us."

"Who?" he asks. I push my sunglasses up and sure enough, not a damn person is paying attention to us. Girls squeal as they get chucked into the water and a group of senior football players are drinking by the coolers. It's as if we're in our own world.

He tugs at the strings of my top like he's going to untie it. I don't even stop him. He makes me stupid-drunk and I don't have an ounce of alcohol in me.

"I just want to see them," he murmurs.

"You've seen my boobs plenty of times," I remind him.

"Yeah," he agrees, sliding down the cups until they fall below my breasts. He's propped up on his elbow, and his one arm blocks me from the view of anyone curious enough to look this way. "But not like this. Here we are, surrounded by this deep river and the shining sun and all this perfect creation, and you're still the most beautiful thing out here."

I moan as he kisses one breast. How does he do it? How does he make me melt like butter and forget my own name? He says all these words that I just eat up. I wonder when he'll run out, when all the compliments will be gone and all we'll have left are gray hairs and rocking chairs.

A guy runs past us, catching a football several feet away, and I push my top back on. I know he can't see us, but it's too close for comfort.

"You giveth and you taketh away," Rowdy complains, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Dignity is my middle name," I retort back.

"Even now?" Rowdy cups me on the outside of my bikini bottoms, sliding his hand up and down.

"I'm an honorable woman," I choke out, inhaling deeply. He's relentless, pushing and rubbing as my hips arch. My sunglasses fall further back on my tilted head, stopping at the messy bun.

Rowdy slowly kisses just behind my ear and blows softly. He is flawless, sweet, gentle perfection and I love, love, love him. He gives me everything I need when I don't even ask.

Rowdy purposefully pushes his middle fingers harder and even though the bathing suit is between my flesh and his hand, he hits the right spot, circling my clit.

"What about now?" he breathes.

My voice hitches and I can't see anything but rippled waters and a blinding sun that makes me see spots. It's like the clouds gave up, making room for the sun to shine just for us.

"Rowdy…" I tingle and my cheeks flush as my stomach tangles into knots. There's something raw and powerful in the way he looks at me. It's adoration and passion and devotion someone my age should never have the privilege of feeling.

Rowdy leans closer to me, kissing me softly as I hold my palm over his hand to still his movements. I tremble and gasp out as he brings me to the edge and back.

He plants kisses on my shoulder and calls me his Cotton Baby.

"What are you now?" he smirks as I catch my breath.

"Unrefined," I say, rubbing over his bulging shorts. "And most ever improper."

.

.

.

"Chili!"

"No, add coleslaw! I want coleslaw."

"Don't forget the mustard!"

"Is there any lemonade left?"

There's no freshman or sophomores besides Jasper, Charlotte Rose and I, but we fit right in. The boys go and fix our plates as Charlotte and I sit at a table. The smell of burnt hamburgers and hotdogs fill the air, and everyone crowds around to fix their food.

"Hey, can I sit here?"

I smile widely and gesture with my hand. "Sure."

"I'm Leah." She's a pretty girl with long, dark hair, brown eyes, and caramel colored skin. She's soaking wet from going swimming and droplets of water fall from her hair.

"I'm Cotton. And this is Charlotte Rose."

"Nice to meet you." She takes a large bite of her hotdog and wipes away the excess mustard from her chin. "Are y'all seniors? I don't think I've seen you in any of my classes."

Charlotte Rose is too honest. "No. We're just here for the free chips."

Leah laughs and throws her head back. "Nothing wrong with that."

Rowdy, Jasper, and Riley return with our food and drinks, squeezing in to the uneven wooden tables. Leah introduces herself to them as well, and we all eat silently for a few minutes, scarfing the food down. The heat makes me way too hungry.

Rowdy keeps glancing at Leah and it makes me nervous. I don't know why, but he's literally looking her up and down. He can't stop looking at her. I finally kick him under the table.

He shakes his head and all of sudden, he's downing his drink like there's no tomorrow. The rest of the gang chat it up, patting their full stomachs. Leah asks all sorts of questions, especially to Rowdy, and I wish she would just leave him alone. I pretend like I don't notice, but I'm a bit peeved. Finally, Leah says she has to go meet up with her friends and rises from the table.

"See ya later," she grins, waving.

"Bye!" Riley tosses her a peace sign as she skips off. She disappears into a crowd and I don't see her again.

"Do you know her?" I look directly at Rowdy and he shakes his head.

"No, but she looks familiar." He frowns for a second and then shrugs it off. Sometimes I forget I haven't known Rowdy all my life. I wonder if he means she looks like someone from his hometown of Rosedale.

Riley is paying us no mind and jumps up. "Who's ready for round two of swimming?"

"Me!" Charlotte Rose gets up quickly and Jasper joins them.

I groan, stuffed from overeating.

Rowdy shifts nervously in his seat. "Wanna walk with me?"

"Sure." There's no way in hell I'm getting in that water. The piranhas are just waiting to attack at a moment's notice.

Rowdy and I walk back to our belongings and put on the clothes that we arrived in. I don't intend on getting eaten alive by mosquitos too.

He fumbles around with his stuff for a minute while I wait. He finally grabs my hand as we disappear towards the woods.

We walk along the dirt path and I long for my rain boots. My flips are unstable and Rowdy has to catch me several times when I trip over rocks and broken sticks. The greenery out here is gorgeous and the canopy of trees allows just enough sunlight to filter through. The air is fresh and clean, and the moss that covers the ground still isn't as green as Rowdy's eyes. I smile, listening to the birds chirp their songs.

Papa was right about the Cotton Belt—it had all sorts of beautiful things, but most of all, it had Rowdy.

We come across a cleared path with rocks that jag unevenly like stepping-stones. Rowdy holds my hand to navigate down the rocks and into a circular-like opening.

"Oh!" My hands cover my mouth as Rowdy leads me towards a waterfall that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. It's small, and the overflowing water descends into a creek that flows northward. It's absolutely breathtaking.

"How did you know this was here?" I ask in astonishment. Rowdy smirks as we walk underneath, sitting on the ride below.

"A very smart fella told me where it was."

I don't know who he means, but I grin anyways. I'm just happy we're here, away from the noise and chaos of the other students.

Rowdy takes my hand in his and we just stare and smile. He looks slightly forlorn and I have to ask, "What's the matter?"

"I had another seizure last night."

I don't know how the world does it, but it manages to catch me off guard every damn time. "Are you-? Is this-?"

_How many more? _I want to know. _Are you getting sick again? Are we back to daily visits to the hospitals and wheelchairs and crutches?_

"I'm fine," he reassures me. "Ma drove me to the emergency room last night. They checked me out and I'm back on a few medications, but I'm fine."

"Okay," I say softly. But it's not okay. Inside, I'm crying more tears than this waterfall could ever produce.

"I just wanted to be honest with you. I didn't call 'cause I didn't want you to worry. But I'm good, I promise."

"Okay." My voice just keeps getting smaller and smaller, disappearing out into the forest. I try to keep my eyes from watering and I squeeze his hand.

Rowdy gives me a soft peck on my lips and raises his eyebrow. "You're not gonna bail on me, are you?"

"What? No! Never." _Never, ever, ever._

"Good, 'cause that's not why I brought you out here."

"It's not?"

"Naw." Rowdy takes my small hand in his and kisses it softly. "But I was lying in that hospital bed thinking, Cotton. I was hooked up to that IV and staring at the wall while Ma paced back and forth. I kept wondering if I was truly meant to just lie there the rest of my life."

"Rowdy!" I'm shocked he would say such a thing. He had to know there was more to life than that.

"Just listen, okay? I was angry before the doctor came in and showed me the test results. I was mad 'cause I didn't want to get sick all over again. I was mad at Ma for dragging me to the hospital in the first place. I was mad at Harley Gene for crying the whole way there. I was just mad and angry at all sorts of things I couldn't even control."

Rowdy swallows, and he's pouring out feelings I know he would never admit to anyone else.

"But then I got this huge smile on my face, Cotton. I started thinking of you. 'Cause I know if you would've been there you would've stolen my blanket, complaining how cold it was or mumbling that you wanted something to eat. You would've taken off one of your rain boots to fix your sock and cursed about your legs being too skinny. You would've done all that and then climbed into bed with me to make sure I wasn't nervous about the doctor coming in. And then when he read the results you would've cried 'cause you're a big ol' softy, and then you would've kissed my cheek and said, 'I told you so.' You would've done all that 'cause you've done it before."

Rowdy swallows a lump in his throat and gazes at me with a soft smile. "But you weren't there, Cotton. That was the hardest part. Not the needle or that stupid blood pressure cuff squeezing me too tight or the long wait. The hard part was knowing I would have to wake up today and tell you everything that happened. I don't want that again."

Rowdy slides his hands from underneath mine. I tremble, wondering where he's going when he bends on one knee. Water splashes from behind him as he digs into the pocket of his jean shorts and holds out the same black box from our birthday party.

"Cotton, I'm in love with you. It ain't the type of love that comes and goes, or the kind you feel for your kin. My love is an 'I-believe-in-God, you've-given-me-a-reason-to-fight, cake-walk-funnel-cakes, carved-fountain-names' kind of love. It's stronger than my body will ever be. And to keep it strong, I've got to have you the rest of my life. I want to wake up with you in my arms and fall asleep whispering your name. I'm a greedy bastard and I'm selfish, but I swear on everything I promise to make you happy. I'll buy you all the polka dotted, bows-at-the-top, yellow canary rain boots in the world if you just say you'll marry me…"

I can't speak. For once in my life, I'm unable to utter a single word.

I guess I take too long 'cause Rowdy curses under his breath and starts to rise.

"Yes!" I half-scream, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'll marry you!"

He nearly stumbles, but I hold him tightly. Tears fall from my eyes and Rowdy drops the ring on the ground.

"Shit!" He quickly picks it up, but the box is covered in dirt. He opens it for me, pulling out the thin gold ring. The diamond is tiny, so small I have to squint to see it as he slides it onto my finger.

It's perfect.

We kiss under that waterfall deep in the woods, and we stay there until our lips become dry.

It's the absolute best feeling in the world.

Rowdy is mine forever and I am his.

We're meant to be and there isn't a person in the world who can convince me otherwise.

As Rowdy grasps my hands to walk back, my shoulders slump.

There was one man who _could _ruin this, and he's the best gator hunter in all of Mississippi.

"Oh no…" I moan. "Papa."

Rowdy grins as he helps me up the steep rocks. "Guess who told me about the waterfall?"

I gasp, not believing that Papa would actually give us his blessing.

"Make sure you tell Jessie she has a lot of taters to eat now," Rowdy adds, chuckling. "I plan on formulating you day and night, Mrs. Masen."


	36. Chapter 36: Colors & Chaos

_Readers: *panics* "Leah, who's Leah? Why was she there?" _

_Happening: *shrugs and skips away* I ain't telling. Not yet! :D_

_Cherry & Mia: You guise never learn, do you? The woman is evil..._

_Happening: *laughs creepily in background*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Six: Colors &amp; Chaos<strong>

It's Saturday, the last weekend before the end of my tenth grade year, and I can't believe I survived it. The June weather is sweltering hot, the kind that makes you sweat in places you shouldn't, but that doesn't stop the Hales and the Masens from coming over to visit. Charlotte's daddy and Carlisle help Papa fix a few shingles on the barn roof, while Mrs. Hale and Esme chat with Ma on the front porch. They've got magazines and fabric swatches and various kinds of flowers all spread out with a checklist.

Charlotte Rose and I sit crisscrossed on the porch with the women folk while Rowdy tosses a football back and forth with Jessie. Harley Gene isn't crying for once while she chews on a toy in her playpen. She's teething, and up until today the tears hadn't let up for a minute. Esme yells at Emmett, who's trying to see how many jawbreakers he can fit into his mouth without choking.

"Emmett! That's enough!" Esme shouts across the yard. "I told you, no more candy!"

Emmett doesn't pay her no mind and Esme sighs, shaking her head. "I swear that boy don't listen for nothing. I had a soup chilling in the fridge and he snuck downstairs in the middle of the night and _ate it all_. Can you believe it? He's gonna eat me out of house and home, I tell ya."

Ma tsks and compares two squares of fabric. "You think about putting him on a diet?"

Esme shakes her head. "Carlisle said no, that he's just going through puberty and he'll grow out of it."

The only thing Emmett's growing is a bigger belly. He can't even walk properly. He just waddles side to side, trampling everything in his way. I bet he can't even see his feet when he stands up.

Mrs. Hale holds out a bridal magazine. "How about this, Cotton? Says here African violet and cranberry red are the most popular colors for weddings this year."

I take a quick glance at the glossy page and frown. "They're too dark. I was thinking something lighter."

"What about these honey?" Ma holds out one coral color swatch and one dark blue one.

"I like them," Charlotte Rose grins. "When I get married, that's what I want."

"You mean to Riley?" I giggle and she pinches me on the arm.

"Shut up!"

"What about that one?" I say, pointing to a softer color in her lap. "What's that one called?"

Ma turns the square over. "Says it's mint. So you like this one?"

She holds the mint and the coral samples together and I smile. "Yeah, that's pretty and fittin'. Like a summer wedding should be."

The women agree and Ma says it's as gorgeous as I am.

Ma's all about the wedding but honestly, I don't care. I'd marry Rowdy with nothing at all, but everyone disagrees with me. Here in the South, weddings are a huge deal. And since Papa said no expenses spared, Ma's taking it to heart.

"No daughter of mine is gettin' hitched in a field like a hooligan," he'd said when I complained. "You're going to have a proper wedding in a church, and everybody who's anybody is going to be there. You're still a Swan, Cotton. I don't want nobody thinking I don't take care of what's mine."

So he wrote a check with a bunch of zeros and Ma's already spent half.

A loud cracking sound comes from the side of the house, and Ma jumps up and runs to the left of the porch. Leaning over, she yells at AJ.

"AJ! Jasper! I know that's y'all! Don't be messing with my rose bushes. Go play in the backyard!"

AJ screams back that she ain't doing nothing, but the noise suddenly stops.

"Cotton?" Charlotte starts to speak as Ma sits back in her rocking chair. "How'd you know?"

I place my magazine down on the white painted wood. "How'd I know what?"

"About Rowdy, I mean. How'd you know that he was the one?"

Even though the three women sitting in chairs have years and years of marriage experience, they all stop rocking just to hear my answer.

"I didn't," I say, shrugging. "I ain't even like Rowdy at first. You know he cursed at me in church the first day we met?"

Charlotte gasps. "No!"

"Sure did. Called me a liar and said the 's' word and everything."

Esme chuckles beneath her breath. "That's my boy, through and through."

"But then I realized how charming he was. He always puts me before himself, even when I don't deserve it."

Everyone "aww's" as I sit there grinning like a fool. "You wanna know the best part? A couple of weeks went by and he took me to that fountain—you know, the one in the middle of town—and showed me how he carved our names in it. I thought that was just the most sweetest thing I ever saw."

Esme frowns. "The fountain? You mean across from the yogurt shop?"

I nod. "Yeah, why?"

"And this was after that cake walk we had last year?"

I think real hard, trying to remember. "I believe so."

Esme holds a hand to her chest and starts laughing. "Oh, Cotton. You have no idea."

I keep asking what she's talking about, but she's in hysterics so bad she has to catch her breath.

"Child, you remember how we had supper here, after church? It was the very first day I met you, before I had Harley Gene."

"I remember."

"Well, after we were good and full, Rowdy asked me to drive him to the town square. When I asked him why, he said he just had to do something. So I drove him there and waited for almost a good hour."

I'm trying to connect the pieces, but I don't understand. Esme sees my confusion and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't you see Cotton? Rowdy's been sweet on you since day one. Whenever he carved your names, it was before you two even started courting."

I open my mouth in shock and glance at Rowdy, who's tickling Jessie so hard she's screaming for Baby Jesus. He looks up and when he sees me staring, he winks and blows me a kiss.

"Yessirree." Esme rocks back and forth, her chair squeaking loudly. "I'd say that boy of mine swept you off your feet, but it's the opposite. I think he planned on marrying you _long_ before he ever asked."

.

.

.

"Yank it out, Ma!" Jessie reaches for AJ's mouth, but AJ bawls and hits her hand away. Blood drips down her lips and Ma holds a cold washcloth to her face.

"See? I told y'all about fooling around. Now look what you've done!"

AJ looks bad. I feel awful since she's in so much pain. "W-we … owwwwww!"

She can't even explain what happened and Jasper has to fill in. "We were playing rock launcher. One of them rocks ricocheted back and hit her square in the mouth."

Ma shakes her head. "How many times have I said not to play that game? How many Alice Jo?"

AJ cries louder and holds up two hands.

"That's right, ten times. But you don't listen, and now your two front teeth are hanging by a string. Jessie, run and fetch your father."

"But-" Jessie hesitates, half-turning to the side. She doesn't want to move 'cause she doesn't want to miss anything, but Ma shoos her away.

"Now Jessie!"

She stomps off, pouting out her lower lip and crossing her arms.

"Cotton, go find that numbing anesthetic." Ma tilts her head to the side as she tries to stop the bleeding in AJ's mouth. "Should be in the medicine cabinet somewhere."

"Yes, Ma." While Jasper tries to soothe AJ with kind words, I dash towards the bathroom with Rowdy trailing behind me. While I push a bunch of half-empty bottles aside, Rowdy chuckles to himself.

"Aren't you going to miss this?" he asks.

"Miss what?" I question nonchalantly, sliding two tubes of first-aid cream to the left. _Geez, why do we have so much medicine?_ AJ screams all the way downstairs, answering my question. My sisters have created so much havoc over the years, it's a wonder Ma isn't a professional doctor by now.

"This," he answers, spreading his arms. "Your house and your parents, one of your sisters screaming bloody murder … Charlie said he was going to help me look at houses next week, and I wonder if all this is too soon for you."

I finally find a small bottle of Benzocaine that looks a hundred years old. I grab it and turn around to face Rowdy, whose expression looks sorrowful.

"I'm gonna miss 'em, Rowdy," I say. "But it's not like you're taking something away. It's like you're giving me a better life, a different one. Sure, I won't have Jessie snuggle up to me anymore or have AJ trying to scare me from behind doors, but it's not like I'll never see 'em. 'Sides, I'll take a quiet life over this any day."

To prove my point, AJ wails again. Rowdy chuckles. "All right. I just … we're young, ya know? I didn't want to be marrying you before you were ready."

"I'm ready," I answer, kissing him quickly on the lips. I don't know a lot about life, but I know Rowdy and our love and how our marriage is meant to be. It won't matter if I'm 16 or 46, he will always be the fella of my dreams.

"Good." He shuts the cabinet behind me as we race downstairs.

Papa's kneeling in front of AJ, tying string in her mouth. Everyone stands around to witness my poor sister meet her doom.

"Yank it out, Papa!" Jessie yells excitedly, practically getting in his way. "Give it the ol' tug and pull!"

"Hush up, Jessie." Ma says, swatting her on her bottom. "You keep carryin' on and you're next."

Jessie gulps and takes two steps back. Papa finishes tying two knots around the dangling front teeth and stands up. "All right AJ. I put on as much medicine as I could. You just grip onto that chair and I'll be quick."

AJ's eyes are as wide as can be, but she nods and clutches the kitchen chair.

Papa steps back, carrying the string gently between his calloused fingers. "Okay, honey. One … two…"

You ask anybody in Forks County whatever happened to Alice Jo Summer Swan that day she lost her two front teeth and they'll give you all sorts of tales.

Some say she yelled so loud that both of her eyeballs rolled into the back of her head.

Others claim she went crazy and she hasn't been the same since.

One particular little girl said that Alice Jo met Baby Jesus Himself, and He said to tell her little sister that there aren't any taters in Heaven.

I reckon that last story isn't true, but the ending is all the same.

Just as I was meant to meet Rowdy, AJ was meant to meet Jasper.

One of 'em has all the teeth in the world and the other has none.

Maybe Rowdy was right; I would miss this—the screaming and hollering and chaos that comes from having two sisters with no good sense.

But as Rowdy tries to stop Jessie from tying another string in AJ's mouth, I figure maybe a little peace and quiet won't be so bad after all.


	37. Chapter 37: Sh-ts & Sycamores

_Cherry's looking for a Rowdy. She can't have mine, but I know a dirty lookin' fella that lives out by Route 84._

_Mia stays up all hours of the night. She says she's reading, but her internet history says otherwise._

_Readers- 40 chaps? You know, for your soul and two cupcakes, I can keep this baby going..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Seven: Sh-ts &amp; Sycamores<strong>

"…And this part here is used for the meat. You know, for gator gumbo or deep fried gator tail." Rowdy dangles a piece of raw gator flesh and I grimace at the sliminess of it all.

"That's gross," I say, squirming away.

"You eat it, don't you?" he asks, swinging it in front of my eyes.

"Well, yeah," I admit, shooing it away. "But I don't, like, wanna see him all chopped up. Look at what you did!" I point to the sad remains of the creature whose scaly skin is peeled back and guts are hanging out. Poor gator never stood a chance. Now that Rowdy's working with Papa part-time, GatorSkins is booming. Rowdy found a new way to bait the animals and they're catching 'em left and right.

It's not that I'm opposed to it. Hell, I know that's how Papa makes his millions and keeps me clothed in the prettiest of dresses. But there's a side to gator hunting I hate; it's like we're in a war with the animals and they don't even know it. War against flesh and blood; a battle against God's creatures and our need for survival.

Papa trudges back into the warehouse with Carlisle, both of them heaving a big ol' ten footer with snapping teeth and a long tail. They lift it on top of the table next to Rowdy, who's wearing a leather apron covered in blood and entrails. He's gross and muddy and dirty, and he reminds me of the boy I first met.

"Lookie here, Rowdy!" Papa exclaims with a big grin. "This one is yours."

Rowdy wipes his hands on a bloody towel and walks over. "Mine? I didn't catch him; I didn't even go out with y'all today."

"Well, I've got that new trap you invented that says otherwise. You're looking at big money this week!" Papa pats him on the back and Carlisle is just as proud of his son.

"Good work, kiddo. You keep it up and you're gonna take my position," he jokes.

"Lead hunter?" Rowdy asks. "No, Pop, it's all yours. 'Sides, I've got football camp that starts in August. It's a couple of weeks away and I can't miss it for nothing."

"You ever change your mind, you know where I'll be," Papa replies. He turns to me, eyeing my dress and boots. "Careful 'round here, Cotton. There's alotta machinery and the floor is slippery. Don't want you falling and hurting yourself."

I grin because he says that all the time. "I'll be careful."

"Carlisle, you wanna help me unload the boat? I think that net's all tangled up around the blades."

"You got it, boss." Carlisle and Papa leave us be and Rowdy grins widely.

"Can you believe it? I get a bonus!" Rowdy reaches out to hug me and I press my hands onto his bloody apron.

"No way, mister. This dress is brand new."

"Shucks, I don't even get a kiss?" Rowdy puckers his lips and even though I've never turned him down, I can't even breathe him in without gagging.

"Nope," I say, emphasizing the p. "This here is a gator-free zone. After you make friends with soap and water, then we'll talk."

"Tease," he smirks, wiping down his knife. "Anyways, you know what this bonus means, don't you?"

I shake my head and he pulls out a folded newspaper that's been cut to just the article. He points to the picture as I lean in for a closer look.

"I've got enough for the down payment on a house! Been saving up for months and it's finally happening."

"Really?" I squeal.

"Yep. Says here it's got two bah-bah … no, that ain't right. Two be-edrooms and a fou … full kit … kitchen. And some other stuff," he rushes out quickly.

He's too adorable sometimes. I finish reading the house listing with two bedrooms, a large kitchen, a dining room area, and one-and-a-half bathrooms. The house is gorgeous and I can't believe we actually have enough to pay for it on our own.

Papa insisted that he would pay for it, but Rowdy said it was his responsibility. Between him working and the money I've made from pageants, we're finally all set.

"You wanna celebrate after I get off?"

"Why wait until then?" I breathe, standing right in front of him. "I say we celebrate now."

I give him a quick peck on the lips and then run away, the tulle of my dress floating behind me. I giggle and laugh, being not-so-careful in the dangerous room.

When Rowdy does catch me, I'm covered in gator blood and all sorts of gooey substances I can't identify.

He calls me his Gator Girl as he presses me firmly against the steel wall, and I don't mind one bit.

.

.

.

"Buth Ma, I canth eventh talkth stwaight. You pwomised and now my biwthday's come and gone!"

Ma sets a platter of ribs out on the table and stares at AJ. "Yes, Alice Jo. I told you for your 14th birthday you could get partials, but that was before you knocked over my plants in the dining room and broke the glass cabinet. So now as punishment, you're going to have to suffer a while longer."

"If ainth faiw!" Alice Jo crosses her arms and pouts.

Ma ignores her and sets down a bowl of collard greens. "Charlie! Supper's ready!"

"I'm coming!" Papa yells from down the hall as Jessie runs into the kitchen wearing only her under tank and yellow undies.

"Jessica Beth Gracie! Go put some clothes on right now!" Ma looks at my sister standing there half naked, her pigtails swinging.

"I can't," she shrugs, scooting into her seat.

Ma narrows her eyes. "What do you mean you can't?"

"Well, Miss Esme was baking a pie and I was happy 'cause I love blackberry pie, so I was jumping up and down and then Emmett came in and he was telling me this joke about candy bars, and you know what? I don't even think I liked the candy bar he had. I think it was old 'cause it had somethin' green on it and I ain't have the heart to tell him, so I just watched him eat it and-"

"Jessie! Get to the point!" Ma reminds her.

"Oh yeah, so there I was ready to eat some blackberry pie and I thanked my Baby Jesus as loud as I could and then Esme said I must've had ants in my pants. I ran all the way home, Ma, and I checked and there won't a single ant in there. But I ain't putting my clothes back on, just in case they change their mind."

Papa stands at the entrance of the kitchen chuckling. "She didn't mean real ants. She just meant you were excited, Jessie."

Jessie frowns 'cause she doesn't understand the way grown folks talk. "Why didn't she just say that? Seems rude, lying to me like that! I almost shit on myself."

"JESSIE!" The four of us yell her name and turn to her in shock. Well, AJ's "Jessie" sounds like "Jeffie," but the intent is still the same.

"Where did you hear that word, young lady?"

"From Miss Esme," Jessie says. Her bottom lip starts to quiver, her eyes well up with tears and I can just tell she's going to start bawling. "After Emmett ate all that bad candy, Miss Esme said he was going to shit on himself and he did."

I sigh 'cause she had the nerve to cuss again and Ma shakes her head. "Jessie. Go in the back room. You're getting a spankin'. You know good and well we don't curse around here!"

"But-" Tears stream down her chubby little face. "It ain't my fault, Ma. Papa?"

Jessie looks to our father for help but he crosses his arms. "You heard your mother."

"But I don't wanna!" Jessie screams and wails and cries and jumps out of her seat. "I can't help myself! I've got ants in my pants! I've got ants everywhere!"

She runs around the table as Ma tries to catch her, until she finally hides between my legs underneath my chair. "Don't let her get me, Cotton!"

I try to protect her, but it doesn't do any good. I've been spanked one too many times myself. The actual hit against my bottom wasn't too bad; I reckon the anticipation of it is actually worse.

"Get out here now, Jessie!" Ma orders. "I'm not playing with you."

Jessie sobs and screams to the heavens, but for once there's no one to help her. Papa drags her out kicking and hollering as Ma follows behind them.

AJ takes a sip of her sweet tea and sighs.

"Ain'th that some shith!"

.

.

.

Rowdy's waiting for me under the sycamore tree like he always is.

He's like that—so dependable I never have to ask where he is or search for him. He's always there, and there's not a day I imagine he won't be.

This time he's got a blanket spread over the grass and he's sprawled out, hogging the entire thing.

_He's gorgeous_, I think to myself.

"Got any room left?" I joke, sitting down beside him.

"Maybe." He flashes a crooked grin and scoots over, pulling me down so I can cuddle underneath his arm. I gaze at everything he is and I can't believe he's mine, mine, mine.

_Always._

We stare at the stars, underneath the tree's leaves with our heads edging near the rough bark. It's one of those nights, the kind where God seems to sprinkle little flecks of gold in the sky. If I didn't know any better, I'd say He put them there just for Rowdy and I.

"You remember our first night under this tree?" he whispers.

_I'll never forget._

I nod silently. It was the first time I gave him a massage when he said his back was hurting. It seems like a lifetime ago, before pain fell in and through us. We've learned a lot since then, or I'd like to think so. Maybe we haven't learned anything at all and we just have a better way of coping with all of the misery and bullshit.

"I felt you then," he continues.

"Felt me?" I ask in a quiet voice. "What does that mean?"

Rowdy pulls me closer, as if I'm not already a part of him. "Means I was hurtin' that night. When I did get some sleep, I was dreaming of you, and I had this ache running through my bones."

"I'm sorry you weren't feeling well back then." Even to my own ears, it sounds pathetic and not enough.

"Don't apologize," he murmurs. "It was a good dream, Cottonseed. You and I were together and we were running through the clouds. I don't remember how we got up there, but I remember you laughing. It was that real laugh of yours, the kind where you throw your head back and no matter how many times you try and stop it just makes you laugh harder? Yeah, you were laughing like that and every time I'd try and catch you you'd run faster."

"I am pretty quick," I tease.

Rowdy grins and presses his cheek against mine. He points up towards the sky with both hands, like he's imagining us up there. "You yelled back at me, but I couldn't hear what you were saying. You finally slowed down and I asked you, 'What are you looking for?' You had this huge smile on your face and you said, "The rainbow. Come on!' You started running again but, I couldn't see it at all."

"Was I fibbing?" I ask him.

"I don't think so. So I kept chasing you, Cotton, but I never did catch you. By the time I woke up, I was in so much pain I couldn't go back to sleep."

Something about his words makes me kiss his cheek. "So I reckon that was a bad dream then."

"A bad dream?" Rowdy repeats. "Naw, I walked straight to your house after that. You opened that window, Cottonseed, and I saw that rainbow. It was bright and beautiful and full of life and color."

"Me?" I question, rubbing my hand along his arm. "How can I be the rainbow if I was chasing after it?"

My heart beats, echoing in my eardrums. Rowdy is easy, everlasting love that he makes known. He whispers as he cradles my face toward his.

"You were too busy trying to find yourself, Cottonseed. But the thing is, I could see you the whole damn time."


	38. Chapter 38: Contradictions & Congratulat

_Welcome back y'all! I've been seriously sick. You know I rarely miss a chapter unless it's serious, so thanks to you who sent me prayers and get wells in my FB group. I have good news, though: Tomorrow you get TWO chapters, one in the morning and one in the evening. We'll be all done with this crazy journey. Thanks for being patient and I truly missed you. _

_Cherry and Mia- You two are my rainbow-chasin'-I-see-you loves. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Eight: Contradictions &amp; Congratulations<strong>

"You're back."

"_Don't go. Please. I can't handle you being gone," I beg without breathing. My plea is answered with kisses full of mercy, but his legs keep walking._

"_I have to, Cotton. Camp is only a week."_

_A week of hell. I'll have to endure empty days and lonely nights._

"I told you I would be." He stuffs his hands into his pockets, unsure if he should embrace me.

_He tosses his bags into the back of his rusty Chevy, coughing when a cloud of dust rises back into his face. He's got the rest of himself thrown in there too. His football dreams and aspirations, hopes and goals … everything but me._

"D-Did … Did you miss me?" I have to know if that side of his life was worth more than mine. If he could handle it with ease, then what was the point of us being together?

"_Kiss me," he orders. _

_I can't. Glancing away, I refuse to look him in the eyes. If I do, I'll break down. It's something neither of us are ready for._

"_I said kiss me, Cotton." He's demanding, and his greed causes me to finally turn around. He grabs my face and there's nothing soft about it; it's to seize my attention and to hold me in place. _

_His lips mold around mine and I despise him. I despise him for doing this, for leaving me. He is a traitor of the worst kind. We've built our foundation on love and trust, but my heart is a nation in ruins. For his crime, I punish him to a lifetime of regret._

"Miss isn't a word I know, Cottonseed." I hate it when he treats me like this—like a child who has no understanding of the world.

"Then you didn't," I reply flatly.

_I fall on my knees as his truck peels away. _

Rowdy removes his hands from his pockets. "I can't miss what was never gone."

He takes my hand, feeling the pulsating heartbeat along the curve of my skin. He places it over his chest. "You were here. You were always here, baby."

He rebuilds crumbled walls, restores the shattered pieces he left behind.

"What did I tell you about doubting me, huh?" His harsh tone is a contradiction to his easy, light touches.

I swallow, the lump in my throat filled with guilt. "I never-"

My lie falls on both of our ears, empty and as meaningless as my life before him.

Both of his strong hands clutch handfuls of my hair as he pulls me close. "You did. It's written all over you."

For a boy who can't read words he knows how to read me. He studies my face and deciphers expressions I can't even recognize.

"I'm sorry." I'm apologetic for being selfish, for worrying when he's never given me a reason to.

"Don't say that," he breathes.

Rowdy picks me up and his hands grab the flesh underneath my dress. My arms wrap around him and I know my excuses are worthless.

"Never tell me you're sorry." Rowdy holds me tightly and I find myself melting into him.

"Then what do I say?" I ask quietly.

"Nothing, Cottonseed." My heart pounds, pounds, pounds as he presses his forehead against mine. "Let me inside of you and I'll show you what real forgiveness feels like."

.

.

.

"Are you gonna be gone forever?"

I glance over at Jessie, who's sitting on a pile of clothes as I stuff my belongings into a cardboard box. She knows the wedding is tomorrow, but I don't think she quite understands that it involves me moving out.

I move a plastic hanger out of the way and sit on the bed beside her. "Not forever, Jessie. I'm only moving across town. It's less than 10 minutes away. You can visit me anytime you want."

"10 minutes?" Jessie frowns, and it's as if I told her there'd be an entire continent between us. "Can I walk there?"

I sigh, pulling her onto my lap. She's wearing rain boots that look like mine and they squeak against one another. "I don't think you can walk there. But I bet Ma will drive you if you ask. Or Rowdy can come pick you up. But the point is, we aren't going to be far away. I'll still be your sister. Only now, you'll have a brother-in-law!"

"A brother?" Jessie grins and bounces on my legs. "A real brother? You mean, I can hide his toys like you and AJ do to me?"

I giggle. Rowdy doesn't exactly have toys, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her that. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks, Cotton!" She squeezes me tightly and jumps down, twirling in circles. "I promise, you'll see me so much, it'll be like you never left!"

"That's what I'm afraid of," I mutter as she scurries out of the room. She bumps into Rowdy on her way through the door and grabs his leg, hugging him.

"I'm so happy you're my brother-in-slaw, Rowdy! When I come over and see you, I'm bringing chili!" She runs away, screaming to Ma that she needs a big ol' pot to cook in.

I laugh as Rowdy enters, prepared to take a few more boxes down to his truck. He gestures back towards the hallway. "I reckon you explained to her how this is going to work?"

I roll my eyes at my little sister's behavior. "Sort of. I think she may have mixed up a few things."

"I bet." Rowdy grins and takes my hands. I stand up in front of him, admiring his white tee and denim jeans. "It's your last day as a single woman, Cotton Swan. Are you ready to give all this up?"

He nods to his right, at AJ and Jessie's unmade beds. Their toys are scattered everywhere and Jessie has a bag of potatoes hidden underneath her blankets.

"For you, yes." I lean forward on my tip-toes and give him a kiss. I'll miss my sisters and my parents and this house, but it's all worth it. Rowdy is who I want to spend my life with and if that means starting a little earlier than most, then so be it.

It just means I get my happily-ever-after much quicker than I anticipated.

Rowdy puckers his lips for another kiss, but I swat him on the chest. "No make-out time, mister. I've got to help Ma and Esme with cooking and you've got to take all these boxes to the new house."

Rowdy groans, but bends over and picks up two boxes filled with clothes. "Fine. But I don't see why we're having a rehearsal dinner. Ain't folks going to be eatin' a big meal tomorrow?"

"It's not a rehearsal dinner," I say firmly. "Just supper. I'm not going to practice getting married. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard of."

That's exactly what I told everyone else. There wasn't any point trying to rehearse for my wedding day. It was a ridiculous thought and even though Ma and Esme fought me tooth and nail, I eventually won. The only time I want to see Rowdy standing at the front of the church is tomorrow, when I'm dressed in white.

"Okay, okay!" Rowdy retreats as if he's entered a warzone he wants no part of. "The truck is full so I'll be back for the rest."

"The rest?" I sigh as I realize the spare room down the hall still holds most of my clothes and shoes. We haven't even gotten half of it yet.

Rowdy notices my expression and gives me a crooked smile. "I'm starting to rethink this whole moving business. Why don't we just live here? I'm sure I can build an addition with all of the potatoes Jessie's hidden!"

I toss a rain boot in his direction and it misses him as he darts out of the way.

A house built out of spuds?

Silly boy.

.

.

.

"Jasper! Put her down! That's too high!" Esme yells from the entrance of our kitchen, watching in fear as Jasper tosses Harley Gene in the air. She's bigger now, with wide green eyes and soft blonde ringlets that curl just past her little ears. She gurgle-giggles as her older brother swings her around in circles instead.

"Renee? Should I add raspberries or…?" She coats the crust of the pie with butter as Ma glances to the side, her face and hands covered in flour.

"Definitely raspberries," Ma approves, adding eggs to a cream-colored batter. "And more sugar. You know these folks around here eat sugar like they're teeth ain't rotten."

I hold my cup out to Rowdy and he pours me a glass of lemonade. Esme opens the canister on the counter and shakes her head. "We're all out, Renee."

"And I just used the last egg too. Goodness, you'd think we were cooking for the entire town."

"We are," Esme reminds her.

I gulp down my lemonade as Rowdy pours some for himself, squeezing my bottom as our mothers are turned around.

"Honey, can you drive to the store for me?" Esme looks down at the checklist she's made with exasperation. "We're out of a few ingredients."

"Sure thing, Ma." I guess that means I'm going with him, Rowdy waits patiently as she scribbles down a list, but she says each one aloud. Rowdy can hear something one time and remember it all. I watch him tap his jeans to the beat of each word she says.

I glance wistfully at the kitchen that's covered in food. Everything from chicken to lamb is wrapped in aluminum foil, lining the counters. There's a few pies in the oven, and an upside-down pineapple cake Esme set on the fridge to hide from Emmett. It's a lot for the supper tonight, but as of tomorrow I'll be a married woman.

_Lord, where has the time gone?_

The summer flew by with the commotion of wedding planning, pageant competitions, Rowdy's football camp, and the celebration of Alice's new teeth. It's been a great summer despite the fact that Rowdy just got back yesterday. I missed him like silly-crazy and I haven't left his side since.

"…And buy some of them pecans too," Ma adds. "I need 'em for the sweet potato casserole."

"Got it." He grabs the list and stuffs it into his jeans. I begin to walk after him but I turn around, feeling bad that I haven't made a single thing.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

Ma walks over to me and places both of her white-powered hands on my face. "This wedding, this dinner, everything, is my gift to you. The only thing I want you doing is relaxing and making sure that future husband of yours picks up chopped pecans and not whole."

I laugh and Ma kisses my cheek. "You got it."

I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug, feeling all sentimental because this is my last night in our house.

"I love you, honey," Ma whispers in my ear. "I just want you to know that. I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"For marrying?" I ask in confusion, pulling back. It's not like it's an accomplishment, per say.

"For following your heart, sug," Ma says, fixing my collar when it doesn't need fixing. "I followed mine and ended up having the best daughter I could've ever prayed for. That's what I want for you; a lifetime of happiness and love and everything you deserve in this world."

She's about to make me cry and I have to look away. "Thanks, Ma."

I wipe my face of the lingering flour and run towards Rowdy, who's waiting for me at the front door.

"What did she say?" he asks.

"To tell you to get chopped pecans and not whole."

He shrugs. "I don't see why it matters."

After seeing Ma pour an entire gallon of milk down the sink after Papa picked up the wrong one, it's my duty as his future wife to teach him why it does.

.

.

.

Rowdy is still in the process of teaching me how to drive but it hasn't worked out too well.

My rain boots were definitely made for walkin'.

Rowdy drives to the grocery store, smoking a cigarette as he grips the steering wheel with his other hand.

"It's our last day as single folks," I say quietly. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Nervous?" Rowdy's laugh is dry, like he's mocking me for even asking such a thing. "You'll be mine, Cottonseed, having my last name like you already have my heart. I ain't nervous at all. I'm excited."

"Me, too." I _am_ nervous, but it's a good nervous. I can't wait to claim Rowdy as my husband in front of our family and friends. The whole town's been looking forward to it, even announcing it in the local paper. It was posted on the front page and everything.

_Heiress to GatorSkins, Inc. to wed local cancer survivor this Saturday, August 15__th__._

Rowdy didn't have cancer and I'm not the heiress of anything.

They may have skewed a few details.

My boy flicks out his cigarette and rolls the window up. "Come over here. I want you to drive with me."

I raise an eyebrow, looking at him. "Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"Naw," he jokes. "You sitting all the way over there and making me turn to look at you is dangerous. You're kind of risking both of our lives."

"Is that so?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt. I'd never refuse him, so I scoot over as he opens his legs. I squeeze into the narrow spot as he lifts one arm to let me in. I grasp the steering wheel and he covers my hands with his.

I try to focus on the road, but he's making it impossible, kissing my neck. "Would you quit that?"

"Loving you?" I can see his smirk in the rearview mirror. "Never."

He knows what I mean, but he removes one hand to pull me closer. I gasp, feeling his hardness underneath me. I tremble and I automatically lose the ability to focus when my head falls back.

"Eyes up, Cotton," Rowdy whispers, grinding into me. I love-hate him so, so bad right now. I sink into him, moving my hips as he groans in my ear.

He's certifiably insane, with hot breath and wet lips. Rowdy has no respect for the law or the road, and I have no respect for myself. I force his arm to hold me tighter around the waist. I circle around and push myself into him. I can practically feel his heartbeat against my back.

"The police…" I gasp, trying to explain. "They'll pull us over."

Rowdy's hand reaches under the yellow top that matches my skirt. He tickles my stomach, right around the belly button. "For what, hm?"

He's baiting me, waiting for me to say exactly what he's doing to me. I won't fall for it. "For _that._"

His fingertips skim upward, underneath my bra, and I inhale sharply at his touch.

Rowdy's voice is raw and husky. "Naw, they won't. But I'll be honest and tell 'em I'm a wanted man."

"I've committed crimes in three different places…" He slides, glides, and tickles. He hitches my skirt upward and all I've got is the thin fabric of my panties to protect me. They're soaked and it's his doing.

"They'll ask me what I've done…" I'm stupid-crazy, to let him break me like this. His swollen lips kiss my feverish skin and I grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white.

"I'll confess it all, baby." I whimper and he holds me to him, rubbing me so I feel the hardness in his jeans. I swear they're going to pop open. I swear I'm going to let them.

"That I've corrupted you here…" He massages one breast, flicking my nipple so that I breathe his name until I've forgotten my own.

"Committed an offense here…" He's onto the other and I can't stop him. I don't want to. _Keep going, keep going, keep going._

"And violated you here…" He pushes my wet panties to the slide, rubbing my clit as my hair falls down like a curtain. I fight to lift my head back up. I'm not helping to actually drive, but he makes me feel like I am. It's an accountability I want no part of.

"They'll have to read me my rights." Circles, circles, circles. He caresses me softly, but his teeth bite my collarbone. It's torturous, how he can be two things at once. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…"

I am holding and lingering. Breaking and moaning. Crying and falling. My world turns into a blur as he takes me to the edge. He never plans on bringing me back. He will leave me there, until all I can see is him.

I cry out and this time, I don't give a damn about the road. He leaves me to ride out this dark world with "I love yous" and "Cottonbabies" that I barely hear. I close my eyes as he jerks underneath me.

The only thing that makes me come to my senses is when the truck pulls slightly to the right.

"Rowdy!"

He corrects the vehicle and I'm glad no one else is on the road.

"See?" I huff and push myself off of his lap. He adjusts his jeans and gives me a crooked grin. "I told you it was dangerous."

Rowdy takes my hand and kisses each knuckle as if they are his and his alone.

"I suppose you were right. Good thing there weren't no cops around."

"To arrest us?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"To arrest _me_," he emphasizes. "For you, Cottonseed, I plan on serving life…"

.

.

.

"I'm stuffed!" Papa pats his belly and leans back in his seat, full of greens and macaroni and cheese and roast beef.

"Mighty fine meal, ladies," Reverend Weber agrees. "Mighty fine meal."

Ma, Esme, Mrs. Hale, and Maggie Weber grin brightly. If there's anything a Southern woman takes pride in, it's her cooking. After we've eaten as much of Charlotte's mama's cheesecake as we possibly can, Ma stands up, clinking her butter knife against her glass.

"Now, this dinner is in celebration of my daughter and Rowdy, who I already consider my son. If there's anyone who would like to say a few words…"

Papa, who's the last person I expect to volunteer first, stands up as Ma sits down. "I reckon I'll do the honors. To my Cotton, the first of my girls, I'm awfully proud of you. I'll be the first to admit, I wasn't the first one to jump on this wedding bandwagon…"

A few of us chuckle nervously.

"But any man willing to prove they love my daughter more than me, is a man I consider worthy of being her husband. Rowdy, you take care of my girl and make me proud. Otherwise, I'm gonna string you up by them net traps you invented!"

"Charlie!" Ma gasps in shock but Papa starts laughing.

"I'm kidding. I'm happy for you both. But really…" Papa winks at Rowdy as he pretends to slice a finger across his neck. It's all in good fun and Rowdy chuckles with him.

Carlisle and Esme stand up next, while Harley Gene sits in a high chair, eating the potatoes Jessie keeps slipping her. Carlisle clears his throat. "I … uh … Congratulations to my son and Cotton. May y'all have a good life ahead of you."

We clap loudly and someone whistles from across the table. Carlisle is a man of few words, but I know he means every one of them.

'Round and 'round the table we go. Miss Sue promises to bring us food now and again, and Charlotte Rose says she's as thrilled as peas in carrot soup for us. Jessie tells us she hopes we make little babies, which causes Papa to choke on his sweet tea. After Ma performs the Heimlich Maneuver, even Victoria and Bree mumble a few nice words. The last to speak is Angela and she stands up slowly, catching a drink before it falls.

"I want to say that you two deserve each other. I'm glad you'll have someone to run to, nasty Gator Girl, after I'm done beating the shit out of you. I'm happy as a clam that dirty boy over here has cleaned up enough to marry your stuck-up, snooty, Bible-thumping, prissy as-"

"ANGELA!" Mrs. Weber smacks her daughter clear across her face.

The sound seems to vibrate in my eardrums, making me stare at her with wide eyes.

Angela's cheeks turn crimson and she points a shaky finger at me. "You slimy, gutter bitch! I cannot wait until he divorces you!"

I flinch when she throws her steak knife at me, barely missing my ear.

"I think y'all best be leavin," Papa says angrily, leaning over the table.

"In the car, NOW!" Reverend Weber gestures to the doorway, but Angela is already storming out.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Weber apologizes and Ma tells her it's okay. Bree and Victoria rush out with them, and even they give me a look of pity.

"Cotton, sweetie, let's just ignore-" Ma tries to calm down the situation, but I've already scraped my chair backwards. Rowdy grabs my arm, but I can't.

It never ends—this, them … everything. It seems like I can't catch a break, no matter how hard I try.

I race from the dining room, past my family and friends and up to my room. I climb the stairs two at a time and slam my bedroom door behind me.

I never make it to my empty bed.

I slide against the wall and my tears fall faster than I do.

There's a slight knock on the door, but I don't answer. They come in anyways, locking the door behind them.

"Cotton?" It's Rowdy, as usual. My prince and shining armor, ready to rescue me.

He can't save me from this.

When I don't answer, Rowdy kneels beside me, putting a gentle hand on my back. "Cotton, it's okay. You can't let Angela-"

"Shut up!" I don't ever yell at Rowdy, but this time I do and it's with full force. He doesn't understand. He doesn't get how tired I am of her shit, how hard it is to let that roll off of me again and again and again.

My tears overflow and I look up, wiping my face. "Shut up, Rowdy! I don't want to hear it! Be the better person, you say. Don't let her get to you, you told me. What good has that done me, huh? I'm tired, Rowdy. Sick and tired. She couldn't even let me have this! This was supposed to be _our_ day, _our_ dinner, and she had to go and ruin it. I could kill her! On all that's good and holy, I could actually kill her!"

Rowdy lets me sit there, sobbing until I can't breathe. He clutches me in his arms, rocking me back and forth. "She doesn't matter, Cotton. Why can't you see that? She doesn't matter."

I pull back from him, looking at him with red eyes. "She does, Rowdy! Don't you get it? She matters 'cause she's this … this _thing_, this infinite little thing that keeps seeping her way into our relationship. She's worse than your seizures or your sickness or not playing football or any other bad thing you can think of. She's there and she'll always be there, waiting to ruin whatever little bit of happiness I have. She cuts at it, Rowdy. Cutting and chopping until there's nothing of me left. And when there's no me, there's no us. That's why she matters, Rowdy. That's why…"

"What do you want me to do, baby?" Rowdy sweeps my hair back and whispers in my ear softly. "Tell me what to do."

I sniff and I feel a chill run down my spine. I lock my eyes with his and I feel as cold as Angela's heart.

"Get rid of her."

.

.

.

"Sign here." The cop points to a line as Rowdy hands me a pen. Papa stands over us, watching to make sure I cross my t's and dot my i's.

"Sign again here … initial here … and write the date here." Officer Paul flips through the stack of papers, looking everything over. "I think that'll be all. We'll serve these immediately. But remember, this restraining order is temporary and you've got a court date in three weeks. If you see her, do not interact or engage with her. If she's already attacked you with a knife and threatened you, there's no telling what else she is capable of. So you call us right away, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Y'all try and have a good night. And congratulations, Miss Swan. My wife and I have been looking forward to this wedding for months now."

I give him half a grin as Papa shakes his hand. Rowdy wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. "You feel better now?"

I nod, the queasy feeling in my stomach starting to settle. I know a little piece of paper can't keep Angela away forever, but it's a start. But I feel guilty 'cause now it's going to cause a rift between the Webers and us. The Reverend and his wife have always been good to me. I wonder if we'll have to change churches.

"Papa?" I look up at him as he walks us outside to the muggy summer weather. "Is Reverend Weber going to be mad?"

"Oh, honey." Rowdy lets go of my hand as Papa wraps me in a hug. "Once Rowdy suggested the restraining order, I called the pastor before we headed over here. He and Maggie know and they're not mad at all. They kept apologizing and apologizing. They're sending that girl of theirs across town to live with his sister. He told me he's had it up to here with her shenanigans and tonight was the last straw. You ain't got to worry about her anymore. I hear Colleen Weber is one tough cookie. Little Miss Weber will be lucky if she sees daylight again."

I hug him back and I'm grateful I've got two men in my life that go above and beyond to protect me.

"I'm headed back to the house. You two comin'?" Papa asks, releasing me to grab his keys out of his pocket.

"You mind if we take our time and walk back? It's probably still busy over there. I think Cotton needs a little fresh air." Rowdy takes my hand again and squeezes it tightly.

"Sure thing." Papa tips his hat and climbs into his vehicle. Rowdy and I watch him speed off as he leads me away from the police station. It's awfully quiet in the middle of town, but for once I'm happy the streets aren't filled with people.

We walk for half a mile in silence, enjoying the night air and each other's company.

"Thanks, Rowdy." My fingers brush over the brick wall between the barber shop and the art gallery that closed years ago.

"For what?"

"For everything," I explain, trying to keep in step with him as we cross the street. "You always seem to know what to do. Even when I'm at my worst you have this way of being my best."

"That's 'cause I love you, Cotton." Rowdy leads me to the fountain—_our_ fountain, where he first told me he loved me. He takes a seat on the edge of the cement and I sit on his lap. Our names are still there, carved in stone. He runs a finger over the engraving, lingering over my name.

"I'd do anything for you." His eyes shine, even in the dim light of the street lamps. I don't think I'll ever get used to having him or loving him. "But I have to say I'm torn."

"Torn?" I frown, not understanding what he means.

"Yeah, torn," he says, entangling my hands with his. "I feel like we're always battling something or someone. I'm ripped in half, trying to fight for you and love you at the same time."

"Oh." I feel guilty. Love shouldn't be like that, some hard decision where he should have to choose between something for me and me. "Do you regret it then?"

"What? No!" Rowdy takes my chin and kisses me softly on the lips. "I'd fight for you every day, Cotton. I'm just wondering when it all stops and we get our moment of bliss."

"Maybe never," I shrug. "Maybe our love is the type of love so rare you gotta keep at it, you know what I mean? Like maybe it's so damn wonderful, the universe says we've got too much. So it's making us work for it."

"Yeah?" Rowdy chuckles and the vibrations go straight to my heart. "I like that idea."

"Me too."

I lay my head on Rowdy's shoulder and kick my feet back and forth. A car drives slowly past us, the driver beeping and waving. We give a slight wave back to Miss Sue, who can barely see, much less drive at night.

"Cotton?"

"Hmm?" I close my eyes, humming against the beats in his chest. It's like a lullaby, peaceful and serene.

"You remember the first words I ever said to you?"

"Something about my eyes being shit brown," I answer sarcastically, yawning into his shirt.

Rowdy chuckles. "No, not that. The _first _words."

I think back real hard, but the events of the day are making me tired. I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my knees into his lap. "You told me to wake up."

"Yeah, I did. I told you to wake up. But don't do that, okay? One of these days I'm going to ask you if this was all real and I need you tell me it wasn't."

My eyes flutter and I barely breathe out my next question. "Why's that?"

"'Cause," Rowdy answers, whispering above my head. "A love like ours can't really exist. And if it does, that means God _can _hear my prayers. But Cottonseed, you're better than anything I ever whispered up to Heaven."


	39. Chapter 39: Reflections & Receptions

_Merry Christmas, Cotton Babies! Second update (honeymoon, etc.) this evening. ;)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Nine: Reflections &amp; Receptions<strong>

"Cotton."

"Cot-ton."

"Cottttt-tonnn…"

I peek open one eye to see Jessie staring back at me, poking me in the cheek with her stubby finger. And it's sticky. "What?"

"You're gettin' married!"

"No," I moan, rolling over. "Too sleepy!"

"Is this what you're supposed to do on your wedding day?" Jessie climbs under the covers with me, swinging her arm, which hits me in the face. "Ugh … too sleepy!"

"Jessie, get out."

"No. I wanna go to sleep with you." She stretches her legs out and knees me in my lower back.

"Cut it out, Jessie."

"I can't get comfortable." She rolls over, nearly pulling a chunk of my hair out, and plants her face right on top of mine. Now we're cheek to cheek and she's stealing my oxygen under the hot blanket.

"Cotton?"

"What?"

"You know how we had to choose between salmon or chicken for the redemption? I chose the fish thingy, but I changed my mind. I want chicken."

"It's a _reception_, not redemption. And I don't care."

"But Mrs. Hale said when she was little they used to eat fish and chips. And I was like oh, that's nice. I like fish and I like chips. And then she said, not real chips. They're actually taters! And oh, I cried Cotton. I cried like somebody done stole my Baby Jesus. And I told Ma I won't eatin' no taters, and she said I was and I told her I was gonna shit 'em out and she said I was gonna get a spankin'! So I ran, Cotton. I ran and I ran and here I am. So I need you to wake up and change my salmon to chicken so I don't have to eat no taters!"

Jessie slobbers on me through all of her excitement and I've finally had enough. I huff and throw the blanket down, sitting upright. "Fine. I'll change your choice."

"Goodie!" Jessie kisses me on my cheek and hops up, taking half of the comforter with her.

She starts to skip out the door and I finally realize something: Jessie's never going to wake me up again and I'll miss her. I'll actually miss her.

"Jessie?"

She turns around, her ponytail a'swinging. "Huh?"

"I love you. I just wanted you to know that."

"I love you too, Cotton." She grins and races down the hall, screaming, "Rowdy! Cotton said I _could _change it! You're a liar and you're not my brother-in-slaw no more!"

.

.

.

"No, Ma! I'm telling the story! The whole truth and nothing but the truth!" I stomp my bare foot as Esme giggles, turning my head as she pins another curl.

"Go on, Cotton. We're listening." Esme prods me as all of the women folk lean forward for the juicy details. We're crowded in Ma and Papa's bedroom and I try my best not to glance in the vanity mirror. Ma rolls her eyes at my hand gestures and loud voice.

"So, like I was saying … there I was, as pretty as can be, standing in the middle of the bridal store and Ma tells me she doesn't like the dress."

"No!" Mrs. Weber gasps and I nod my head.

"Yep. She told me it was too simple and this won't a pageant and it was my wedding day. 'Go big or go home,' she said."

"So what did you do?" Charlotte Rose asks.

"I went home," I say, sticking my tongue out at Ma. "I told Papa and he marched us right back into that store. He said, 'Go ahead, Cotton. Go get that dress you wanted.' So the lady brings it out…"

"And he bought it for you, right?" Mrs. Hale questions.

"No," I answer pouting. "He said it won't grand enough and no daughter of his is going to walk down the aisle lookin' like she fell out of the ugly tree and hurt herself on the way down."

Everyone starts laughing at my pain. They don't understand how traumatic the dress shopping was. I'm scarred for life. I still have nightmares and everything.

"Well since that fibbing daughter of mine is telling a tale, I'll show you what she got." Ma walks into her closet and toward the back. She comes back out, holding the garment that's covered in a white bag. Slowly unzipping it and holding it out, everyone gasps.

"Oh my!"

"Ain't that the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

"It's beautiful, just like her. It truly is."

Esme tells me to stand, but blocks me from the mirror. It takes all of the grown women to help me out of my robe and into the gown. Rose Charlotte, AJ, and Jessie hold out the train, but I swear one of them is giggling at my undergarments. Ma zips me up and I feel a hundred pounds heavier.

"Stunning, I tell you. Absolutely stunning."

"I saw your butt, Cotton!" Jessie snickers.

"It's a thong!" AJ explains. "She's getting married. She's supposed to wear one."

I blush shades I didn't know existed as Ma hushes them both. "Y'all stop it. Cotton becomes a grown woman today. Or maybe she did a while ago, I'm not sure. But the point is, she looks beautiful, so let's just leave it at that!"

"You're all done, Cotton. Take a look." Esme beams at me as I walk slowly towards Ma's full-length mirror. I lose my breath because the reflection in front of me looks nothing like myself.

My hair is curled and pinned to the side, with tendrils sweeping across my face. The makeup is soft and simple, and somehow it makes me glow. But the dress is beyond my wildest dreams.

Two thick beaded straps hang just below my shoulders to make the scoop right above my chest. The gown hugs my every curve and flows out right at my waist into a layer of tulle. The best part of all is the diamond detailing that swirls throughout the top portion of the dress. I look older than I feel. Even though I had my heart set on the mermaid gown, this is much, much better. It's me.

Classy. Southern. Dramatic.

I hope it knocks Rowdy right off of his feet.

Well, not literally 'cause that would suck, but a big ol' smile will do.

"When you're done staring at yourself, sweetie, I've got a surprise for you." Ma chuckles at me because I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the mirror.

"For your something blue, I thought you might like these." Esme helps me sit on Ma's bed as I take the box from Ma's hand. I unwrap it, lifting off the top. Pushing the tissue paper to the side, I gasp.

"Ma!"

She smiles and holds up a pair of mint colored wellies. "They're the color of your wedding. I couldn't find a coral pair, but I hope these will do."

I squeal and lift up my dress so she can put them on. "I do, Ma. I do. Thank you, thank you!"

"Since we're going out of order here, I got you something borrowed." Esme hands me a veil and I touch the soft, thin fabric. "I know it's not all fancy like your dress, but-"

I cut her uncertainty off with a wave of my hand and kiss her on the cheek. "It's perfect, Esme. Thank you."

"Our turn!" Mrs. Weber walks forward with one box while Mrs. Hale and Charlotte Rose hold another. "This is our something new. Just don't tell my husband we got these for you."

I unwrap both boxes, which hold champagne glasses. Laughing, I give them all hugs. "I won't say a word, I promise."

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue…" Ma sings the traditional chant and frowns. "Shucks, Cotton! I forgot your something old…"

"It's okay, Ma. I don't need it."

"Hold on!" Jessie runs from the room as we glance around, puzzled. Within a minute she's back, holding something behind her back.

"I got you something old," Jessie explains, shifting from one foot to the other. "For your wedding day, I always want you to know how special you are. So, from me to you, I give you this."

Inside of a grocery bag is a balled up grocery bag. And another. And another.

I frown when I finally get to the "something old".

"Jessie! This is not a gift. This is a rotten potato!"

"Well, it was either that or AJ's broken teeth." Jessie shrugs and kicks the empty plastic bags to the side.

"I swear, Cotton, you can be so un-grape-ful!"

.

.

.

"Papa, are you crying?"

Papa sniffles as we wait in the back of the church. Jessie's just now taking her turn as the flower girl, and she's swaying left and right like the aisle is her stage.

Unbelievable.

"I'm not crying, honey. I've got something in my eye!" Papa turns to the side and wipes his face with his handkerchief.

"Tears, perhaps?" I ask, giggling. I know this is a big moment for him, giving away his first born and all, but I can't help but grin. My tough, gator-catching Papa is weeping his eyes out.

"Just you wait. One of these days, Cotton, you're going to give away your only child and you'll see how I'm feeling."

"Sorry, Papa. I was just trying to lighten the mood. It's going to be hard for me too, you know?"

Papa looks at me with red eyes. "It is?"

"Sure," I say, wrapping my arm around his. "You're the one who taught me how to ride a bike. And how to tell a baby gator from a momma gator. And how to stay away from boys."

"Well, two out of three ain't bad," Papa chuckles.

I grin, laughing along with him. "I promise, I'll visit often. You and Ma can't handle AJ and Jessie all by yourselves."

"You mean it?"

"I promise," I repeat, and this time I have to wipe away my own tear.

"I love you AnnaBella Rain Cotton Swan."

"I love you too, Papa."

We hug and it's the last time I'll get to embrace him while having his last name.

The music starts and it's my turn to walk down the aisle. Papa smiles at me and pulls the veil over my head. I shift the coral roses in my hand and try to shake away my nerves. "This one's for you, baby girl."

I listen closely and it's not the traditional wedding march playing. Charlotte Rose sings Etta James' _"_At Last_," _and I look at Papa in shock. "You did this?"

"Your mother walked down the aisle to this. About gave my parents a heart attack."

I giggle and Deacon Biers and Riley open the doors wide for us.

_Breathe, Cotton. Breathe._

My eyes drift to the pews, decorated in ribbons and hydrangeas. The wedding party is dressed in hues of mint and coral, and friends and family crowd the church until it overflows. Charlotte Rose belts into the microphone, giving me a wink as I walk with Papa

But all I can focus on is my boy standing on the right side of the arch, prepared to wed his Southern-Baptist, rainboot-wearing, brown-eyed girl.

My Rowdy.

He gives me that crooked grin of his, and he is everything, everything, _everything_ I've ever wanted.

I love him so much.

I love him in time that can't be counted, in amounts that can't be measured.

I love him more than I love myself.

Somehow, someway, Papa manages to get me to the end of the aisle. He kisses me and squeezes my hand, and I can hear Ma sobbing in the background.

Rowdy intertwines our fingers and he is my happy-beautiful-heart-fixer-green-eyed-moss boy. I am a ball of flutters and nerves but they're the good kind.

Everything about Rowdy is good.

Reverend Weber clears his throat to begin the service.

"To saints and sinners, family and friends, the righteous and the wicked, we have come here today…"

I sigh out loud because I know the wedding ceremony I've waited for all my life has come down to the pastor preaching to the ungodly.

He drones on and on until my feet start to go numb. When I glance over, I swear I can hear Rowdy snoring.

"Rowdy!" I hiss. "Wake up!"

"Huh? What?" He shakes his head. "I won't sleeping."

"Liar," I breathe, the air blowing against my veil. "You're so full of shit your eyes are green."

Rowdy snorts and raises an eyebrow.

"Cotton, that's disgusting."

I blush and look down.

I guess it's only cute when he says it.

.

.

.

"Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Masen!"

The crowd cheers and they lined up on both sides of the ballroom. I hold my husband's hand as he kisses me and we walk into the reception area.

Rowdy leads me to the main table on the right end of the dance floor. Pulling out a chair, he bows. "For you, Mrs. Masen."

"Why thank you kindly, Mr. Masen." I grin and take my seat. Someone's already started the music as the other guests take their seats.

"Oh, cut it out you two! It hasn't even been half an hour!" AJ throws a random flower at me and takes her seat a few chairs away.

"Jealous!" I yell back and Rowdy chuckles at our fussing.

While we wait for the food to be served, Rowdy leans over and whispers in my ear. "I love you, Cottonseed."

Somehow, he still makes me blush. I grin widely as people walk by to give us their regards and best wishes. Papa and Ma sit on my side of the table while Esme and Carlisle sit on Rowdy's end.

"You think they're serving gator?" Papa asks. "I'm in the mood for gator."

I groan loudly. "No, Papa. Fish and chicken. Ma told you already, remember?"

"Right, right." Papa nods and adjusts his wide brimmed hat. "I just wish they were serving gator."

I roll my eyes and when I look up, Victoria and Bree stand in front of me.

"Hey, Cotton. Rowdy." Victoria greets us shyly. "We just wanted to tell you congratulations."

"Um, thanks," I say. "We appreciate it. Thanks for coming."

"No problem." They stand there awkwardly until Maggie calls their names from across the room.

"That was weird," I whisper to Rowdy. "They were actually being nice."

"I reckon they would after what happened to Angela," he says sarcastically.

"Yeah, probably." I don't mention it, but I think they really have changed. Angela, never in a million years, but I think Bree and Victoria have seen the error of their ways.

Or at least the Baptist in me hopes so.

The staff begins to bring out platters of food and I push the expensive silverware to the side. They place two plates in front of us, and Rowdy and I lift our lids at the same time.

"You got chicken," I say.

"You ordered fish?" he asks.

"Y'all see that, don't you?" Papa says, pointing. "That's how it starts. First it's over meat, then who's driving what, and the next thing you know, you're sleeping on the couch!"

"Hush, Charlie!" Ma whacks him with her napkin and Papa grabs his arm.

"Watch out, Rowdy," Papa says to him, talking across us. "The Swan women are dangerous."

"Don't I know it," Rowdy quips.

And just for that, I pinch his arm.

"NO! I ordered chicken!" Jessie screams from the children's table. Emmett reaches for her plate but she slaps his hand away. "Not fish. Chicken!"

The waiter leans over and whispers something in Jessie's ear, but it just makes her madder. "I ain't a liar! The bride is my sister and she said I could have chicken, so that's what I want!"

Jessie climbs onto her chair and yells at the top of her lungs. "Tell 'em, Cotton! As Baby Jesus is my witness, you said I could have chicken!"

I sink down in my chair, hoping to disappear. She just calls my name louder and finally Ma gets up and marches over there.

"Welcome to the family," I mutter to Rowdy.

.

.

.

When everyone finishes eating, and Jessie finally gets her chicken, the DJ lowers the lights and we all turn our attention to him.

"Now y'all know the bride and groom usually have their first dance together. But the bride requested that both families come and join in this next one together."

Rowdy mumbles to me under his breath. "What did you do, woman?"

I smirk and grab his hand. "You'll see."

Cautiously, all of the Masens and Swans stand up and join us on the dance floor. I point to the DJ and he grins back, starting the music.

_Left a good job in the city  
>Working for the man ev'ry night and day<em>

Papa looks at Ma, and then at me, shouting above the music. "Proud Mary by Tina Turner?"

I blow Papa a kiss and wink. "I learned from the best, remember?"

Papa grins and takes Ma's hand as they dance to the music.

_Then I never lost a minute of sleep  
>When worrying 'bout the way that things might have been<em>

"Mr. Masen, I'm gonna show you how the Swans get down!" I grab Rowdy's hands as he swings me around. We roll our arms to the music, a'swinging here and a'tapping there.

_Big wheels keep on turning  
>Proud Mary keeps on burning<br>Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river_

Carlisle and Esme laugh, trying to copy Ma and Papa's moves. Esme's dress swings in circles as Carlisle dips her low.

_Cleaned a lot of plates in Memphis  
>Pumped a lot of 'tane down in New Orleans<br>But I never saw the good side of the city  
>'Til I hitched a ride on a river boat queen<em>

I keep twirling until I end up in Papa's arms. He sings along to the tune, snapping as we lean forward and then back. I giggle as Emmett and Jessie skip and hop along to the lyrics.

_Big wheels keep on turning  
>Proud Mary keeps on burning<br>Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river_

We laugh hard and we dance even harder. I soak in every detail of Rowdy swaying with Ma and of AJ and Jasper turning and prancing.

If I looked real close, I would've seen Jessie's plate still full of chicken that she never ate.

I would've noticed Jasper stepping on the hem of my dress or AJ's front partial slowly loosening in her mouth.

I could've seen a lot of things that night, but the details didn't matter. We were surrounded by love, our two families joining as one.

We smiled like we hadn't ever smiled before and danced like there was no tomorrow.

We stayed up late that night, the party going into the wee hours of the morning.

I didn't mind it though.

We were doing what families do best: loving one another.

And with a love that deep, that devoted, and that dedicated, we turned Forks County into a night to remember.

So we kept that love rolling.

Rolling, rolling, rolling, right into forever.

* * *

><p><em>I'm going to say thank you here, so everyone can enjoy the last chapter without me babbling at the end. <em>

_Cherry- Beta, Beta, Beta. I don't know how you do it. You've got that red-ink, Sparks-sad, love-you-crazy, you're-a-monster vibe that I can't get enough of. This story would be crap without you. We love easy, we love hard. *fist-bump*_

_Mia- We all know half of these reviews are yours. You're the biggest supporter, ever. Thanks for Carlisle-head-rolls, get-better-poisoned-soup, keys-to-the-world and Jessica Simpson. XOXO's are all we know._

_Readers- WOW. I can't even write this without tearing up. I'm sappy like that. You followed me from Cadillac and here we are. We made it past cheating-chickens and kill-Angela-already-dammit. I write how you feel. Thanks for your reviews, but mostly your heart. I'm tater-hatin', eat-dem-gators grateful. _

_True Story: Cotton Belt is based on my husband and I. Except I'm Rowdy and he's my Cotton. Thanks Mr. Happening for hospital-kisses, seizure-hugs, wheelchair-rolls, and physical-therapy-tears. We're so easy-peasy, that's-my-blanket, blue-eyes, don't-stop, don't-stop lovin'._

_See ya next time, _

_TIRH_


	40. Chapter 40: Honeymoon & Home

**Chapter Forty: Honeymoon & Home**

"I knew we should have accepted those honeymoon tickets."

Rowdy winces as his foot hits another unpacked box. "Why? This is romantic. There's candles and everything."

"They aren't even real." I pout and toss a flickering LED tea light candle across the room. It bounces off the wall and onto the carpet.

Rowdy laughs and rolls over on top of me in our bed, running the white lace of my lingerie through his fingers. "We can go to Venice anytime. Charlie can exchange the tickets. He told me so himself."

"But why can't we go now?" I whine. The new comforter set isn't worn in yet and the fresh threads scratch against my bare leg.

Rowdy pulls a few pins out of my hair, chucking them onto the floor. "See, I'm a simple man and I like simple things. I have this plan…"

He runs his fingers through my curls. "I was thinking we could go on vacation. I could sweep you off your feet and make you my wife on the other side of the world."

I breathe heavily as he kisses the delicate spot below my earlobe. "Or?"

"Or…" Rowdy nibbles my ear, his hot breath blowing onto my pillow. "I could make love to you for the first time as your husband in the first place we call home."

"Doesn't seem so grand," I murmur. Rowdy tickles the ribbon that ties the lace babydoll top I'm wearing. He presses the hardness in his boxers against me, causing me to clench my legs.

"Oh, it will be," he promises, lifting one of my legs around him. He places a hand on my chin, turning my head to the left. "Those are our first curtains."

"They're half hung," I complain.

"Yeah, but you're going to look at them every day and remember I did this." I moan as Rowdy thrusts against the thin material that covers the spot that aches for him.

He turns my chin to the right. "And you see that dresser?"

"Barely." I glance at the dark furniture, which has been only partly filled with clothes.

"You'll walk to that dresser, Cotton Baby, and you'll open that top drawer." Rowdy releases my leg and slides down my body. He hovers just below my belly button and I want to push him down, down, down.

"Inside, you'll pull out one pair of those pretty panties you like to wear." He clenches my thong between his teeth and glides it down my legs. I moan, feeling his stubble rub against my skin. His hands tease my thigh as he pries my legs open, settling right where I need him most.

"You're gonna remember you don't need 'em," he whispers in a husky voice. "Every day that you're with me, you're gonna know my tongue is the only thing that should be under your dress."

I blink my eyes as he yanks on the ribbon of my top. The fabric falls open and my breasts are out on display.

"Wh-What if I forget?" I stutter, dripping with need.

"I won't let you," he says in a low voice, pulling my lips apart with two fingers. He presses his wet mouth against my swollen clit. I clutch onto the bed sheets, gripping tightly.

He makes my vision blurry and all I see is this mass of hair and green eyes that gaze up at me with love. I arch my back as he worships me with his tongue. He likes me like this—vulnerable and defenseless. He makes it so that I only need him.

_Ever._

The moon glows through the window, but it has nothing on my boy. He is everlasting, meant-for-me, lick-harder, go-faster foreverness. I am a bundle, wrapped in nothing but the attention he craves and the devotion he demands.

I grind my teeth as my stomach folds inward. Rowdy licks me continuously, stroking his tongue faster and faster. When I whimper, he slides two fingers inside of me, curling them as deeply as they will go.

"Rowdy, Rowdy, Rowdy…" I sing his name and he is hymns I know in my heart and gospels I preach in my sleep. He takes me places God didn't mean for us to travel and beyond a Heaven I can't see.

My nipples harden, but he would never leave them alone. He slides his free hand up my skin that sweats for him, grabbing me roughly. I roll my hips, guiding him to my soul.

I don't need it.

It was never mine anyhow.

Rowdy twists his hand and I cry out. My cheeks flush and sweat sticks to the nape of my neck. I tug on his hair, holding him firmly as my pressure releases. I squeeze my eyes shut and I look at it all.

_Sycamore trees and rainbows I can't find._

_Butterfly necklaces and love I can see._

_Crooked smiles and forgotten breaths._

Rowdy is whispered confessions and bubbling joy. I am blind-loving bliss and he is traces of soft touches.

He is everything.

He kisses my center one last time as I pull him up by his shoulders.

"How do you do it?" I gasp, swimming aimlessly in his aura.

"Do what?" He presses against me and I know we are far from finished.

"Make me feel like I can't love you enough."

Rowdy grins with wet lips and it sends chills down my spine. "Maybe it's 'cause deep down, Baptist Girl, you know I've been loving you my whole life."

.

.

.

Boxers, gone.

Babydoll top, disappeared.

All that's left are rumpled sheets and Rowdy's fingers as he brushes my skin.

Our bodies are nothing but glistening shadows of the night. He lies beside me in calm, but I am greedy, greedy, greedy.

"Take me, Rowdy," I whisper, sweeping my fingertips across his chin. "Please."

"It's our wedding night," he argues in a quiet voice. "I'm supposed to be sweet."

"I don't care."

I beg to him with my body, crushing my mouth against his. Our tongues swirl together and I grip his hair, pulling him closer to me.

He refuses.

Rowdy shoves me away, flipping me over in a single movement. The cold air blows between my thighs and he is on his knees behind me. I tremble, because I don't know what I've just done.

I ask for things I know nothing about.

"You trust me?" he questions, leaning over my back as he sweeps my hair to one side.

I nod, unable to speak. He presses his hand against my lower spine, making the curve of my back dip lower. On my hands and knees, he strokes himself behind me, gripping the meat of my flesh.

I've never, ever had someone back there and I whimper at the unknown.

But Rowdy is both surprise and truth.

He slides between my legs and into the spot that's familiar and squeezes him whole. A sound escapes me and he is deep, deep, deep. He reaches angles he's never reached and smacks my bottom raw.

"Can I love-fuck you, Cotton?" His honey voice is pure sex, and I twist the sheets in my hands.

"Yes."

I glance back and Rowdy shakes his head. "You're my wife, now, Cotton. _Say_ it."

I am nothing but sacrifices to him and a martyr to his love.

"Love-fuck me with your cock," I whisper. "Please."

Rowdy groans as dirty words I never say shake him to his core. He pulls out, teasing me with just the tip. When I begin to ask again, he thrusts into me.

Hard.

My weight collapses under me, and he lifts me back up.

He loves and he fucks.

I am in an oblivion of darkness and he holds two hands on my waist. He moves me roughly, back and forth, back and forth.

My hair becomes a curtain, hiding me from his view. He's swift to tell me to look at him, but he never stops. My toes curl and I barely hang on.

My boy is a taker.

Rowdy takes me high and low, in his heart and back into mine. Sweat drips from his brow and onto my back. I have never felt him like this, in colors of red and black that swirl in passion. When I tingle, he pushes. When I quiver, he thrusts. I bounce off of him, but never away. He holds me closely, filling me again and again.

"Rowdy!" I shout his name and he digs his nails deeper.

"How does … it feel?" He is relentless, questioning me when I can't even breathe. He doesn't care.

The takers never do.

"Like fucking," I moan and it's the wrong answer. He disagrees with a forceful shove and asks me again.

"How does it feel?"

"Like … love." I manage to gasp out words I can't say and he punishes me for my mistake. He has no idea how he takes me to the edge and brings me back, only to push me away again. The fire starts and I'm the only one getting burned.

"How … Cotton?" He's barely holding on and I've got one last chance. I tremble beneath him as his plunges become fast and deep.

"Like forever!" I scream and my lungs give out. His heartbeats become mine and at once, they stop. Rowdy groans, filling and holding me still. I feel his legs shaking even harder than mine.

We will both fall in this place of darkness, but only one will descend first.

It's always me.

I collapse and he kisses me as I drop. His warm come drips down my thigh and it is the evidence of all that we are. My back, my neck, my cheek … there is no place that doesn't belong to him, no place he doesn't press his lips against.

"Cotton Baby," he breathes, wrapping me into his arms. "You love and you are love. Forever."

.

.

.

"Cotton!"

Jessie runs to the front porch as I wait for her with open arms. "Hey, little sister!"

She squeals and holds me tightly. "Boy, I sure have missed you."

I grin and kiss her head. "Jessie, it's been two weeks."

"Yeah," she breathes. "Two weeks of living with hooligans."

I roll my eyes as she repeats Papa's words. We have to quit saying bad things around her.

"Oooh, this sure is pretty…" Jessie glances at our modest cobblestone house with blue shutters and plants that line the front. The stones make the building, but it's Rowdy that makes it a home.

"Thanks." Rowdy shuts the door to his truck, carrying two loads of groceries. "Hi, sweetie."

I kiss him on the lips and Jessie giggles. I feels weird now, being the adult and welcoming my husband. Weird, but a happy weird.

"How was your day?" I ask, opening the door. Jessie walks with us, touching the crème colored sofa and the glass tables. She follows us into the kitchen and sits on a barstool at the counter.

"Your father is something else!" He groans, setting a bag on the marble counter.

"What did he do?" I ask. I'm sure it won't surprise me. Papa's always up to no good.

"He asks me to come in early today, right? I say sure, it's a Saturday, I can work a long day. But no, he has me filling out paper work and all sorts of nonsense."

"So?" I don't see what the problem is.

"I'm not finished." He spins Jessie around on the stool and she squeals above our conversation. "At the very end of the day, I walk outside and there's a brand new black Chevy waiting for me."

I shrug. "He's a giver. So, where's the truck?"

"I told him no." Rowdy frowns and pulls fruit out of the grocery bag.

"No? Why?"

"'Cause I can buy a truck on my own. And we don't need one right now. You still can't drive."

_Thanks for digging that knife in a little deeper._

"And then he asks me if I'm stopping by the house to pick up Jessie. I told him yeah, that we already promised her she could stay for the weekend. But I had to go by and pay the mortgage first. He says all right, punches me in the arm for not taking the truck, and says he'll see me later."

I take a seat at the kitchen table 'cause I get the feeling this story is more than I bargained for.

"So I stop by the office and they tell me my mortgage has been paid in full." Rowdy slams a bag of apples down. _Poor apples, they never hurt anyone._ "Paid in full, Cotton. He doesn't think I can take care of you. I swear, I'm paying that man back every dime he gave to me for being sick!"

"Rowdy, I don't think he thinks that," I say, rubbing his back. "He just wants to help. He knows school has started again and you won't be able to work as many hours."

"Yeah, he just wants to help!" Jessie repeats, kicking Rowdy mid-turn. "Maybe if you quit working and get started on them babies, you won't be stressing so much!"

Rowdy and I lock eyes and I peel them away to stare at Jessie. "Jessie, who told you to say that?"

"Nobody," she says, spinning again. "But I heard Ma talking to Papa and Ma said she wanted some grandbabies. And then Papa said it was too soon, that y'all just got married. And then Ma told him if y'all had babies, you'd come around more often. And then Papa said she was right and I was trying to listen to the rest, but Ma heard me shuffling outside of the door. She told me God don't like eavesdroppers and I yelled that Baby Jesus don't like stress babies and then I ran to Emmett's. Ma's getting faster in catching me in the house and those spankings are starting to get longer…"

"Jessie," Rowdy says slowly. "Go and get my football from the garage. I need to talk to Cotton, but I'll be outside in a little bit to play with you."

"Okay." He helps lift Jessie from the stool, but she doesn't budge.

"What?" I ask in an exasperated voice, putting my hands on my hips.

"I'm going to go outside," she says, shaking a finger at Rowdy and I. "But if you're not out there in a few, I'm coming back in. Ma and Papa tell me the same thing and the next thing I know, they're both screaming like gators and won't open the door. I'm just a child. A poor, cinnamon child…"

I groan and slap a hand to my forehead. "It's _innocent_, Jessie. The word is innocent."

.

.

.

The first game of the football season is tonight and Forks County High is decorated all over with blues and yellows. Streamers hang from the ceiling, balloons are everywhere, and there's enough school spirit to choke a cheerleader.

"Rowdy!" Riley tosses a ball in the cafeteria and Rowdy catches it with ease, posing on one leg.

Folks around us cheer and Rowdy can't stop grinning. "Can you feel it, Cotton? Do you feel the excitement in the air?"

"I feel something, all right," I mutter, bitterly. I yank off my sweater and Charlotte Rose looks at me in confusion.

"You okay?" she asks.

"I'm hot. It's burning up in here."

"It's the end of September now. It's cooler than it was last week."

I swing my arms, trying to create a breeze. "No, it's definitely hot. Either that or I'm coming down with something."

"Oh no!" Rowdy fans me with one of his senior textbooks that I swear is going to knock me out. "You can't get sick. I finally get to play my first game. College scouts said they would be back to look at me in action and you need to be there."

I jab him with my elbow and knock his book to the floor. "Thanks for the concern."

"I'm the only husband you've got. Remember that, _Mrs. Masen_."

"I can get another one, _Mr. Masen_!" I retort.

"You weren't saying that last night Miss '_Do it harder, go faster, right there, right there, right there!_'"

Jasper, Riley, and now AJ, who's in the ninth grade, whistle at Rowdy's low blow.

"That was cold, man." Riley mumbles.

"Chilly," Jasper adds.

"An iceberg," Alice chips in.

I don't know what comes over me, but I start crying. It's an ugly cry, and my face stretches wide and I start hiccupping.

"Look what you've done now!" Charlotte Rose yells at Rowdy. "If this is marriage, I want no part of it."

Jasper smacks his brother on the back of the head. "Nimwit!"

"Baby, I'm sorry!" Rowdy tries to comfort me but it just makes me sob harder.

"Y-You hurt my feelings!" I wail and my shoulders shake uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry. I am. Hey there…" Rowdy gives me a hug and pats me on the back. "How about an ice cream? Strawberry? Chocolate?"

I sniffle and look up with wide eyes. "Vanilla, please? With sprinkles? And a bag of chips? Oh, and a side of meatloaf, for later."

Even though I throw it all up after sixth period, it's totally worth it.

.

.

.

"This is it, baby!" Rowdy jumps from side-to-side in his yellow jersey with the name Masen printed on the back. His jersey number is 22, and I remember it so I can keep an eye on him on the field.

I pat the heavy pads on his shoulders and my breath blows into the cool night air. It's definitely colder than usual, but Rowdy creates a wave of heat as we stand outside the boys' locker room.

"I'm proud of you, honey," I grin, giving him a kiss. "This is your big night. Make me proud and make a home run!"

Rowdy chuckles. "It's a touchdown, Cottonseed. And yeah, I'll do my best."

The coach whistles and calls the team for a huddle.

"I gotta go. Can I get another kiss?"

Rowdy grins that crooked smile I love and I lean forward. His chapped lips are freezing, but I mold them with my own. His tongue melts with mine and I could stay here forever, kissing him like this.

A whistle blows again. "Masen! Let's go, lover boy!"

I giggle and Rowdy grabs the back of my neck, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Fountain-love and crater-moons?" he asks in a thick whisper.

"Shit-browns and my-something-really-good," I murmur.

Rowdy kisses my forehead and jogs away. I check out his behind in his tight uniform and giggle.

I love that boy so much it makes me sick.

"Cotton!" I glance over at Charlotte Rose, who's waving at me on the other side of the fence.

I run through the hordes of people towards her. It seems like all of Forks County is here to watch the opening game.

"C'mon," she says, pulling my arm. "Our folks are up here!"

I bump into the crowd of cheerleaders from the opposing team. A flash of long hair whips me in the face. When I turn around, someone who I never expect to see smirks at me.

_Hey, can I sit here? _

_I'm Leah._

A flood of memories from the senior skip day come flooding back.

That liar. How could she? Why would she?

I don't get a chance to confront her because Charlotte Rose practically drags me until we find our families in the center of the bleachers, third row. It's loud and the marching band play their hearts out. Ma waves at me as I climb the steps, trying to navigate through people.

"Cotton! Good to see you honey!" Ma kisses me and scoots over. Papa greets me too, as well as Deacon Biers, the Hales, and the Masens. Miss Sue is here too, except she's wrapped in a blanket and too damn old to be out like this.

"_And now … for the first game of the season, we have the Forks County Hornets…"_

The announcer pauses as we cheer and stomp loudly on the bleachers.

"_And the Bend Creek High Oilers!"_

Our side boos because we don't know the meaning of the word sportsmanship. The other side of the field cheers, trying to outdo us.

"_I'll tell you what John, the Oilers have quite the linemen this year. From Patrick Jordan to Jacob Black, the Hornets are going to have to put all they've got into beating this undefeated team…"_

The announcer's voice dies in my head as I turn to Charlotte Rose. "It's her! No wonder Rowdy recognized her. She looks just like Jacob!"

Charlotte glances at me in confusion. "Who?"

"Leah!" I point, but the football field is too long of a distance for her to see clearly. I snatch the binoculars from Ma's lap and hand them to her. "Long, dark hair. Third girl from the left."

Charlotte Rose slowly brings the binoculars down. "My heavens! It _is _her! Why would she lie and say she went to our school?"

"'Cause she's a liar, just like Jacob. I bet she's related to him. They look just alike." I shake my head in disgust. "Remember how she kept asking Rowdy a bunch of questions? I bet she was trying to get dirt on him, seeing if he was any better."

"Better for what?" Charlotte asks innocently.

"For this," I seethe. "Football. But Rowdy's gonna kick his ass out there!"

Ma hits me on my leg. "AnnaBella Cotton, you watch your mouth."

_Dammit. _Once a child, always a child.

"Sorry, Ma." I turn back to Charlotte and together we look for Jacob. She finds him first, dressed in jersey number 15. "Charlotte, you gotta do me a favor. Run down there and tell Rowdy Jacob's down there. I don't know if he heard the announcer or not."

"You got it." She leaps up and the movement makes me nauseous.

"Cotton, you all right?" Ma lays a gentle hand on my back.

"I'm fine," I say, swallowing. "Been feeling a little sick all day, that's all."

"Poor thing. What did you eat?"

"Skittles. Ice cream. Chips. Meatloaf. Two chocolate milks. An M&M I found in my pocket. A lollipop I stole from AJ. Leftover mashed potatoes I asked the lunch lady for. Oh, and bucket of chicken on the way home."

"Good Lord!" Ma and Esme yell at the same time and Esme leans over my right shoulder. She puts a hand to my head and lifts my chin towards her.

"Oh my goodness. You're pregnant." Esme says it matter-of-fact and Papa spills his soda onto the person in front of him. He doesn't even bother to apologize.

"What?"

"Yessiree." Esme nods and brushes back my hair. "You've been eating a lot? Feeling nauseous? Tired? A little warmer than usual? Breasts been hurting?"

Oh boy, this can't be good. I'm only a week and a half late. With everything that's been going on, I figured my cycle would show up eventually.

I nod to Esme, biting my bottom lip.

"I knew it. Four babies I've popped out. I should've known by your face. You're looking a little different."

"You're right," Ma agrees. "You're absolutely right."

"Well, hang on a cotton-picking second!" Papa pushes Ma out of the way and leans forward to me. "Are you with child, AnnaBella?"

"I-I don't know," I squeak out.

"Well doggone it!" Papa yells, forgetting we're around people. "Somebody go and buy my daughter one of them test things! Go on!"

"You don't have to hit me," Miss Sue gripes. "I'm going. Too dang chilly out here anyways…"

"Oh, baby!" Ma squeezes me until I can't breathe. "This is just, this is wonderful."

"We don't know yet, Ma."

"I do," she grins, kissing me on the cheek. "Anybody who eats leftover potatoes has got to be pregnant!"

I laugh and Jessie stands up, three people down the row. "Cotton is pregnant from taters?"

Oh God.

Jessie runs towards me and pats my sweater-covered belly. "You're having a tater baby? I knew it! I knew that's why I shouldn't have been eating 'em. Ain't nothing but trouble! They knock you up and leave you hanging!"

Ma tells Jessie to sit down but she's too busy screaming.

Papa holds a hand to her mouth as Charlotte Rose finally comes back. "Rowdy knows. He said the coach goes over the roster before they play. But he said to tell you he loves you."

I grin and when I glance up, he waves and blows me a kiss from the sideline.

I blow one back and everyone "awws" at the same time. Jessie tells Charlotte Rose I've been impregnated by a spud, but I don't even correct her.

At least she said the correct word this time.

.

.

.

"_The Hornets and Oilers are tied 14-14. Seems like the defense is on the move. Now that we're at half-time, let's listen to the soul and blues of the Hornet's marching band…"_

I hear the announcer from inside the dirty bathroom stall, where none of the women are letting me pee in peace. Even Miss Sue is in here, telling me how I need to urinate on the correct end.

"Are you done yet?" AJ knocks on the door and I yell back.

"No!"

"I'm telling you, I already know," Esme says.

"Could be," Mrs. Hale agrees.

I pee directly on the stick, but I don't come out. Ma keeps knocking on the door, but I need this moment to myself.

_What if?_

_What if we are? _

_What if we can't do this?_

_What if I can't finish school?_

Suddenly, I'm finding it hard to breathe. I sit on the toilet, crying silently to myself, with my panties still down and my dress hitched up.

"Cotton?" Jessie crawls underneath the stall on the filthy floor. She stands up, and peels my hands away from my face. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do it, Jessie!" I sob. "I'm too young and Rowdy will be mad and we ain't ready. It's too soon!"

Jessie wraps an arm around me and squeezes. "But you can, Cotton. Remember that one time Ma told me to eat my taters-"

I cut her off. "Enough Jessie. This is serious. No potato talk."

"Just listen." She sounds much older when she's trying to give me advice. "Ma told me to eat my taters and I cried. I told her I didn't like 'em and that she put too much on my plate. She said I had to and do you remember what you told me?"

I shake my head.

"You told me to eat 'em one spoonful at a time. So I'm telling you the same thing. If you're having a baby, you take it one day at a time. And Rowdy will be happy and you'll be happy and everyone will help you. I can't change a diaper, but I'll practice on my baby dolls until I can, okay?"

I glance up with red eyes and Jessie kisses me on the cheek.

For once in my life, she actually makes sense. I don't realize a few minutes have passed by until Jessie yells through the stall.

"Ma? What does two lines mean?"

.

.

.

"_And Edward 'Rowdy' Masen is on the move. With less than a minute left in the game, this newcomer is determined to get his touchdown. Look at that John! Another five yards…"_

Rowdy is plowing down the field and he can't be stopped. I don't know what all the football jargon means, but it must be good 'cause they won't stop mentioning his name.

I cheer and jump up and down for my baby.

_For both of my babies._

As soon as this game is over, I'm telling Rowdy the good news. I'm as nervous as can be, but happy. Esme convinced me he'll be excited and she's never wrong.

The referee calls for a time-out and Rowdy scuttles to the side-lines. He takes off his helmet and even from here, I can see the sweat glistening.

He points to me in the crowd and signs, "I love you".

I gesture the same back to him when his jaw drops.

I don't understand what's changed, but he just stares and stares until I finally turn around.

Behind me, all of our family and friends are holding discarded pizza boxes open with letters written on them.

Rowdy can't read, but it's Jessie who makes a circle over stomach and then points to the words that makes him understand.

I can't breathe or yell at them or even move.

Rowdy drops his helmet and jumps over the dividing fence. His coach yells for him, but he keeps running.

Through the people standing.

Up the bleachers.

Past the man with the soaked jacket and onto the step in front of me.

"Yeah?" he breathes heavily and holds my face delicately in his gloved hands.

I nod, with tears streaming down my cheeks. "Yeah."

He laughs and grins and he's so stupidly happy he lifts me into his arms.

"She's pregnant!" My family and friends clap and cheer, but for a few strangers, they don't see what's so exciting about a teenage pregnancy.

"MASEN!" The coach waves his arm and Rowdy kisses me passionately.

"I love you, baby. So much. And you, Little Cottonseed." He rubs my belly and kisses me again, jumping down the bleachers.

He turns slightly and yells to my little sister. "Hey Jessie?"

"What?"

"You remember what I told you? That day we were practicing?"

She nods and grins.

"This one's for you, tater lover!"

She giggles as he climbs the fence and runs back toward the field.

"_With the Hornets on the three yard line, they have to beat that mountain of a defense from the Oilers. Can they do it? This one is definitely a play for the records…"_

Time seems to stop. There's barely any noise coming from the bleachers and every person that is able to stand, does.

"_And the offense has the ball. Quarterback Goodman shows no mercy as he tosses the pigskin into the air … It's anyone's ball from here … No, number 22. Look at him move! He's right there. Two Oilers are holding him back, but no … look at him push … Go! Go! Go! TOUCHDOWN! Edward 'Rowdy' Masen wins the game!"_

I squeal and cheer as my husband stands on his feet, dancing in the end zone. He takes off his helmet, dropping it to the ground.

The crowd shouts his name, but there is one person looking at him in particular.

Papa lifts Jessie onto his shoulders and Rowdy points at her.

One.

Two.

Three.

"JESSIE SWAN, BABY JESUS LOVES YO-"

My throat.

It closes and I cannot breathe.

There is no oxygen.

Jersey number 15 runs straight into him, plowing him into the hard, steel pole in the end zone.

Rowdy, with no helmet, knocks his head and falls, twisting onto the green grass.

Somewhere a referee blows his whistle and hordes of players run onto the field.

I don't see them.

My world is complete silence, buzzing into my ear.

I say nothing, pushing and shoving my way down the stairs.

Somehow I hear Papa scream my name, but it sounds like nothing I recognize.

My feet pound against the dirt.

Run. Fall. Get up. Run. Pound. Run.

_Rowdy, Rowdy, Rowdy…_

.

.

.

"Ma'am, I am so sorry."

I push the doctor with two forceful hands. "Don't you fucking tell me that! Get in there! I fucking swear, you get your ass in there and save my husband's life!"

Pa grabs my arms, but I am stronger.

When it comes to my boy, I am always stronger.

This time, my feet race across the spotted linoleum. I turn the corner, my rain boots leaving dark marks on the white floor.

"Rowdy! Rowdy!" I scream, pulling back the curtain as doctors and nurses work over him.

"Again!" A defibrillator shocks his body, and he jerks up and falls.

"Get her out! We can't work like this!" A nurse tries to shove me away but I grab Rowdy's feet.

"Save him! Do you hear me? Save him!" I scream, but I am dragged away.

"Jenkins, stop his head from bleeding!"

"Again!"

Shock.

Jerk.

Fall.

My world turns to black.

.

.

.

"Mrs. Masen, you don't understand. He has Guillain-Barré Syndrome and a history of seizures. With his weakened immune system and the brain injury and the spinal cord damage…" The doctor flips through his clipboard as if Rowdy's entire existence can be summed up on a few sheets of paper.

I get it now.

It's as if the universe has been waiting for this moment.

All of the therapies and long hours and treatments ... everything was for nothing.

My husband was never meant to live.

The great ones—the legends, the life-changers, the Rowdys of the world—_those_ are the ones who die.

"Don't tell me that!" I hiss. "Two fucking days and you haven't done shit!"

"He's in a coma, Mrs. Masen. The body can't sustain under that type of injury. Even if he were to somehow miraculously wake up, he wouldn't…" The doctor's words linger in the air.

"He wouldn't what?" I taunt him, pounding the wall. "Don't you tell me what my boy wouldn't do! You don't know my God. You don't know shit about miracles…"

"Baby, come on. You need rest. Come on…" Ma pulls me away, but only because I let her.

I don't make it back to the waiting room.

I crumble right there in the hall, in the middle of machines beeping and visitors passing by. I crumble because I have to the right to cry, to mourn, and to melt into fucking nothing.

"Why, Ma?" I choke and a fresh set of tears pour out. She clutches on to me and she is all I have at this moment. "Why him? Why can't I have anything? What I have I done to make God hate me? What have I done?"

The saliva in my throat builds up, and I suffocate because of my pain.

Ma whispers words I can't hear. It doesn't matter.

She doesn't have an answer for this.

.

.

.

"They've charged Jacob with assault." Papa bites into a hospital cafeteria sandwich, licking his lips. "They said he confessed to planning the attack."

"I hope he rots in jail," I mutter in a hoarse voice. Ma holds out a bag of chips and I eat one, but not for me. I don't want anything these days, but I eat because I have to.

"It's been two weeks, Cotton," Ma says slowly. "Are you going back to school?"

I glare at her for even thinking such a thing.

"Sweetie. You heard the doctors. Rowdy may never-"

I stand up, flipping the napkin holder off the table. "Don't you start! Don't you say his name and the word 'never' in a sentence again! Don't!"

I storm off, leaving my parents as alone as I feel.

.

.

.

"What was it about?" Esme rubs my hair as I curl closer to her.

"Well," she begins. "We were outside playing at the lake. You know how he loves to be outdoors. But it wasn't him as he is now. It was a younger Rowdy. He was laughing and jumping."

I bring the image of her dream into my head, smiling. "Was the lake deep?"

"Oh yes," Esme answers softly. "So I yelled to him, be careful! But he ran off the pier and jumped again."

I laugh quietly, 'cause it sure does sound like him. "What happened next?"

"So he jumped, but he didn't come up this time. I screamed his name, over and over and he didn't come up."

"Oh no," I moan.

"But you know what? I turned around and there he was, tapping me on the shoulder. He said, 'Did you see me Mama? Did you see me?' I cried and I said, 'I sure did.' And then I asked him, 'Where did you go?' He looked me right in the eyes and told me he was with God."

I sniffle and wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt. "What do you think it means?"

Esme ponders and whispers. "I think it means he's not here right now. That boy that's in that bed is not our Rowdy. I think God's got him and he's holding on to him so he doesn't feel no pain."

I smile. I like the idea of that. "Do you think he's coming back?"

Esme's lips quiver as she cries and her tears fall onto my face. "I sure hope so, Cotton. I sure hope so."

.

.

.

"Can I talk to him?" Jessie sits on my lap, leaning over Rowdy.

It's been three months now. It's December 28th to be exact.

We spent our first Christmas with neither one of us speaking.

He's not getting worse, but he's not doing better.

"What do I say?" Jessie asks.

"Anything you want."

"Okay." Jessie takes a deep breath and grabs one of Rowdy's fingers. She's careful not to move any tubes or touch anything she's not supposed to.

"Hey, Rowdy. Um, a lot has been happening since you've been asleep. I got a new Barbie for Christmas. Ma told me I have to keep her clothes on and she can't go swimming in the washing machine again. I tried, but AJ told on me."

Jessie looks back at me and I prod her to keep talking. "I also talked to Baby Jesus. Reverend Weber says we're not supposed to bargain with God, but I think he'll forgive me just this once. So I told Baby Jesus I would eat all of the taters Ma gives me if you'll just wake up. I have too, Rowdy. I'm not fibbing or anything. I eat mashed taters and fried taters and taters mixed with onions. I don't like 'em too much, but I'm doing it for you. Reverend Weber says Baby Jesus hears everything we say, so I hope he heard me. Otherwise I'm gonna be real mad. So yeah, when you're done sleeping, can you let me know? I don't wanna eat more than I have to. And I love you, Rowdy. Very much."

Jessie glances up and I turn away to wipe my tears. "How was that, Cotton?"

I shake my head and stare out of the window.

"It was perfect, Jessie. Just perfect."

.

.

.

"Are you sure?" Ma begs me to leave so we can all celebrate our January birthdays, but without Rowdy, there's no point.

I promise to stay in his room and that I'll be here when they come back. I kiss Esme and Carlisle and squeeze Emmett's cheeks. Dang kids are growing too damn fast.

I shut the door behind everyone, enjoying the quiet and the hum of the machines that keep Rowdy alive. I turn down the TV and scoot my chair to the edge of his bed. Reaching for his hand, I kiss each knuckle individually.

"Happy Birthday, Rowdy," I whisper. "The big 18, huh? You can finally buy cigarettes instead of Carlisle getting them for you…"

I chuckle to myself and stretch forward to touch his hair. "You're so strong, baby. So damn strong. Thank you for hanging in there. I'm so proud you, you know that? Everyone is. Ma and Papa and Carlisle and Esme. They all love you very much. And your little seed, too. He's getting bigger now. I think he's going to be another Emmett, but I hope not."

My bottom lip trembles and I can't find the will to hold on. "Baby, I have this necklace of yours. You remember what you said when you gave it to me? I remember 'cause I kept thinking how blessed I was to have met you. And I'm mad as hell at God right now, but I know He must have loved me at one point right? I mean He gave me you. And you're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. I've got your heart, Rowdy. I know you can't hear or understand me, but I want you to know I'm holding on to it, baby. So you just stay there and I'll do all the work. I'll be your lungs and I'll keep your heart pumping. You just stay there and I'll do it all. They keep telling me to let you go. That maybe it's best to pull these tubes out, but I can't … I can't live knowing you're not here with me."

A desperation comes over me and I hover over him, wishing life was as easy as death. "I need you to get better, Rowdy. I miss you and I don't know how I'm supposed to do this by myself. I've got Ma and all of them, but I need you. I need your smile and I need you to tell me it's okay…"

I hiccup, struggling to breathe as I cry. "It doesn't feel okay. It don't feel right, baby. We're supposed to be the lucky ones. I know I told you we had to fight for our love, but I don't want to anymore. This battle is for nothing. We keep going down and down and I'm raising this white flag, but no one sees it, Rowdy. Life doesn't give a shit whether we win or lose. But I keep going for you. I'll climb every damn mountain but I need you to reach out baby. I need you to come back so we can go home. I can't sleep there without you. Papa gave me that new truck so I keep waking up and driving here and then the nurses kick me out. They don't get it, Rowdy. They don't know about how you carved our names and every time I pass that fountain, I break down and cry. I can't h-handle it. I can't do it anymore…"

I let my tears fall onto his hospital gown and I grasp his hand tighter. "I know you said your love was bigger than what I could see, but I see it, baby. It's bright and it's beautiful and I am holding on to it like life. So I need you to come back to me. Please. I prayed for you baby, even before I knew you. That's how I know I need you. _We _need you…"

Rowdy's machine beeps in the same steady pattern it always does. It never changes.

Beep, beep, beep.

_Every one of 'em has the same green eyes, but it's the one closest to me I can't stop staring at. _

Beep.

"_I'm Rowdy," he says with a wink. His southern drawl is sweet and slow, like maple syrup._

Beep.

"_Don't be ashamed. You're a tough one, I can tell. All cotton seeds start off small and hard. And when they finally start growing, they're almost impossible to pull apart."_

Beep.

"_Folks spend their entire lives letting their hearts beat when they can't even feel. Then when it's too late, it explodes, loud as a firecracker."_

Beep.

_Rowdy's this little piece in a big world and I'm trying to figure out how it all makes sense. _

Beep.

"_How'd you know how to do that?" I sigh, feeling weightless and light._

"_I didn't," he answers honestly. "But when you love someone as much as I love you, you learn."_

Beep.

"_Promise me something," he says breathlessly._

_I don't need to ask. I just do._

"_Promise me that one of these days you're going to marry me."_

Beep.

"_You fib," he accuses me, wrapping his arms around me._

_I gasp, trying to speak. "What?"_

"_You can't love, Cottonseed. You are love. That's what you're doing. Glowing all around me, just by being you."_

Beep.

"_Cotton, I'm in love with you. It ain't the type of love that comes and goes. My love is an 'I-believe-in-God, you've-given-me-a-reason-to-fight, cake-walk-funnel-cakes, carved-fountains' type of love. I swear on everything I promise to make you happy… Just say that you'll marry me…"_

Beep.

"_Are you ready to give all this up?" Rowdy grins and takes my hand._

"_For you, yes." I lean forward on my tip-toes and give him a kiss. Rowdy is who I want to spend my life with and if that means starting a little earlier than most, then so be it. _

_It just means I get my happily-ever-after much quicker than I anticipated._

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rowdy's machine speeds up and the light flashes above his head.

I stand up, shaking his body.

"Rowdy! No. Don't do this. Baby, baby, baby. Don't, don't, don't."

I scream and pound my fist against his chest. His body heaves upward and his arm shakes.

A nurse runs in, pushing me to the side.

Taking off Rowdy's oxygen mask, she leans, hovering just over his lips.

Taking two steps back, she prods me forward.

I remember when there was a time Papa would settle out on the grass and tell us all about how we lived in the center of the Cotton Belt—the deepest part of the South where cotton was the most prevalent crop.

I just called Forks County, Mississippi home.

But as Rowdy Masen, the wild boy who stole my heart, exhales a breath, I know home is where the heart is.

_"What would you do if I died?"_

_ "You're not dying," I say. Death isn't a choice for him; I won't let it be._

_ "But let's say I was," he murmurs. "I just hope God accepts me into Heaven." _

_"He will."_

_"Maybe. Maybe not. But when I get to those pearly gates, I'm going to have to answer why I don't have faith like you Baptists do." _

_"What are you going to say?" I ask. _

_"I'm going to be honest. I'm going to look Jesus right in the eye, and without fibbing, tell Him the truth ... There's no way in this world I could love something as much as I love you..."_

I clutch Rowdy's hand as his green eyes flutter open.

"Cottonseed…"

**~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~**


End file.
